Carter went away more than puzzled. He told his wife that evening that Reardon had been talking to him in the most extraordinary fashion—no understanding a word he said.
All this time he was on the look-out for employment that would be more suitable to his unfortunate clerk. Whether slightly demented or not, Reardon gave no sign of inability to discharge his duties; he was conscientious as ever, and might, unless he changed greatly, be relied upon in positions of more responsibility than his present one. And at length, early in October, there came to the secretary’s knowledge an opportunity with which he lost no time in acquainting Reardon. The latter repaired that evening to Clipstone Street, and climbed to Biffen’s chamber. He entered with a cheerful look, and exclaimed:
‘I have just invented a riddle; see if you can guess it. Why is a London lodging-house like the human body?’
Biffen looked with some concern at his friend, so unwonted was a sally of this kind.
‘Why is a London lodging-house—? Haven’t the least idea.’
‘Because the brains are always at the top. Not bad, I think, eh?’
‘Well, no; it’ll pass. Distinctly professional though. The general public would fail to see the point, I’m afraid. But what has come to you?’
‘Good tidings. Carter has offered me a place which will be a decided improvement. A house found—or rooms, at all events—and salary a hundred and fifty a year.
‘By Plutus! That’s good hearing. Some duties attached, I suppose?’
‘I’m afraid that was inevitable, as things go. It’s the secretaryship of a home for destitute boys at Croydon. The post is far from a sinecure, Carter assures me. There’s a great deal of purely secretarial work, and there’s a great deal of practical work, some of it rather rough, I fancy. It seems doubtful whether I am exactly the man. The present holder is a burly fellow over six feet high, delighting in gymnastics, and rather fond of a fight now and then when opportunity offers. But he is departing at Christmas—going somewhere as a missionary; and I can have the place if I choose.’