“All right,” said Dick to the signor; “bring up the wagon.” And then, with great difficulty and consummate courage, the signor and Dick brought an iron cage up to the window, and drove Atlas in. The operation took more than an hour, because they had to feed Atlas and drink a bottle of champagne themselves before they set about it. So that it was six o’clock before Atlas was out, and the money was in, and the Sandhill and District Bank opened its doors for business.
“We gained just the time we needed,” said Mr. Bradshaw. “It was dirt-cheap at fifty pounds!”
And Dick, although he did not get the Albert Medal, was taken into partnership, and married Fanny Flirtington. It was the only way of preventing her seeing things she was not meant to see out of the window at 2 A. M. and chattering about them in public.
A LITTLE JOKE.
A day or two before Easter, I was sitting in my office, finishing up some scraps of work, and ever and anon casting happy glances at my portmanteau, which stood in the corner. I was just off to spend a fortnight with my old friend Colonel Gunton, in Norfolk, and I was looking forward to seeing him again with great pleasure. We had not met for ten years, and I had never been to his place or seen any of his family. It would be delightful.
The telephone bell rang.
“Oh, confound it! I hope that’s nothing to keep me!” I exclaimed; and I rose to see to it.