“It wants a 2 pound stamp,” he said.
“Just so,” returned the other briskly. “Stick these on, please,” handing him the two hundred and forty stamps, with a malicious grin.
“Stick them on yourself,” was the answer.
Then Tasker began to rave. It was the duty of the Distributer of Stamps to stamp all documents brought to him, and so forth. What did he mean? To all of which Roden turned a deaf ear, and proceeded to occupy himself with other matters.
“So you refuse to stamp this document!” foamed the agent at length.
“Distinctly. Do it yourself.”
“We’ll soon see about that.” And this fool started off to the magistrate’s room to complain to that functionary that the Distributer of Stamps refused to perform the office for which he was paid. Mr Van Stolz, who knew his man, rose without a word and went into the clerk’s office.
“What is the meaning of this, Mr Musgrave? Mr Tasker complains that you refuse to stamp his deed.”
Roden saw the look on his chief’s face that he knew so well. He anticipated some fun.
“I refused to do so on his terms, sir,” he answered; “I asked him whether he wanted a 2 pound stamp, but he replied that I was to stick those two hundred and forty stamps on a bit of paper that won’t hold the half of them. I ventured to think I was right in retorting that the Government time was not to be played the fool with in that fashion.”