“Hurray!” I cried, pretending to throw up my cap. “Success to Hallett’s great invention! Patent, of course?”
“Yes,” he said, with a sigh; “but where is the money to come from for the patent?”
“Suppose we finish it first,” I said, laughing.
“Right, my young wisepate,” he cried; “but, good heavens! it’s eleven o’clock. Come, sir, pack off home to your lodging.”
“Why, I thought we were to set the model going to-night?” I said, in a disappointed tone.
“Yes, I did mean it,” he said, fitting a couple of cog-wheels one into the other. “But it is too late now.”
“Let’s try for another hour,” I said eagerly.
“No, no, my boy. I don’t like you to be out so late. Mr Revitts will be annoyed.”
“He’s away on duty,” I said. “Just another hour, and then you can walk part of the way home with me.”
“Well, just an hour,” he said, with his pale face flushing with pleasure; and we set to at once, he fitting together, while I polished and oiled wheels and spindles, and handed them and the various screws to him to fit in their places.