The conspirators turned up at the office in a hopeful spirit next morning. Early as the hour was, Gray had evidently been assisting his courage with some beverage that cheers and yet inebriates.
"Who's going up first?" he asked in a confidential whisper. "I'd sooner steady my nerves a bit; I'm better in the afternoon."
"Let Polly go, then," said Busby. "I'm a bit shaky myself in the mornings; must be the train journey."
Parrott, when consulted, did not seem to relish the idea much, and suggested that they should go together. Union would be strength.
"Perhaps it would be better," agreed Busby.
"Anyhow," said the head clerk, "there's all the day yet. We don't want to rush it. Let us give him time to get here and settle down to work."
This was agreed upon, and the matter was left until the morning's work was well under way, when it was taken in hand again.
"Now," said Gray, "this is the best time to begin. He'll be in the middle of the correspondence, and there's no fear of interruption."
At that moment Master Cacklin slapped a bundle of letters down on Busby's desk, and set Gray's nerves all on edge again.
"Pardon, sir," he said impudently, "hope I didn't disturb you. S'pose you've heard the new rule, gents."