"Thunderin' good!" said Cacklin, briefly.
"He ought to give us all a rise if he marries her," said William Budd, ruminating.
"So he will, you can bet," said the junior clerk. "Early's the right sort of chap to boss the show; he's been putting the other chaps in their places a bit in the last few weeks. About time, too. He's made Polly sit up, and Gray's been nearly off his crumpet. A lot of lazy 'ounds, they are; rousing up the other chaps when they sleep all day themselves."
With this summary verdict on his superiors, Cacklin produced a draught-board and prepared to give a scientific display of his powers, in a friendly game with Billy. This game was a regular feature in Mr. Cacklin's lunch-hour, and usually resulted in his making all the scientific moves while his opponent won the game; whereupon he would enter into a lengthy explanation of his slight error in not huffing at the right time, by which action he would have taken four kings and literally "romped home."
The present game came to an end in the usual way, Cacklin ascribing his defeat to his own generosity in giving his opponent "a chance" at a critical moment.
"Now I'll have a cheque if you don't mind," he said, in sweetly insinuating tones to the waitress. "I must get back and start the men at work, and see my lady secretary about her holidays."
"Get back and sweep out the passage, you mean," said the girl, pertly.
Cacklin ignored this rude remark, and lit a fresh cigarette.
"Who was that young feller I saw you with last night?" he said, winking at Billy.
"Keeper of the monkey-house, of course. Lucky thing he didn't see you."