Placing this convenient to his hand, he also took a large blotter, arranged in it a sheet of paper, and wrote in the date and some half-dozen lines, before moving blotter and letter into a handy position.
This done, he listened for a few moments, and then taking the tracing paper and bill, began to go over the signature very carefully, writing it again and again, beginning at the top of his tracing paper, and forming a column of signatures.
Then there was a knock at the door; and as Fred cried “Come in!” the blotter was drawn deftly over the tracing paper, and he went on writing.
A clerk brought in a couple of letters to be signed, and this being done he retired; when Fred resumed his task, working away patiently, and always going over the writing again.
This went on for half an hour or so, until the young man started, and hastily drew the blotter over his work; for the door was being opened very slowly and quietly, and in a heavy, noiseless way, old Hopper entered the room.
“How do, Fred?” he said, approaching the table slowly.
“How do?” was the short, sharp reply. “What does he want?” he muttered.
“Hey?”
“I say what hot weather.”
“Don’t shout: I’m not so deaf as all that,” said the old fellow hastily. “Father in his room?”