“Yes, Orthur, my boy, had to open the safety valve,” replied the butler. “We’re made men, eh?”
“Not quite,” said the footman, grinning, “but getting into shape. Three hundred a-piece. I say, ain’t it grand?”
“Splendid,” said the butler, with a broad smile. “But steady now.”
“I say; wasn’t the idea right?”
“Right as right, my boy.”
“Ah,” said the footman, with a knowing wink, “who’d be without a good only uncle to tip you when you want a few pounds to invest? I say, though, you’ll go and pay the old boy as soon as we’re gone?”
“Won’t be time.”
“Oh yes; you’ll be all right. Get it done. Make it easy if we want to do it again, eh?”
“All right; I’ll go. I say, Orthur, ain’t I like a father to you?”
“Dear old man!” whispered the gentleman addressed, with a grin. “Me long-lost forther!”