“Yes, sir; but Mr Samuel’s not in the office, sir.”
“Bah!” ejaculated his employer; and Pringle made his escape.
Ten minutes later Sam entered the place, and the clerk whispered to him sharply—
“Gov’nor wants you, sir. Awful temper, sir.”
“Oh, is he?” said Sam sullenly. And then to himself—“I’m not going to take any of his nonsense, so I tell him.”
Pulling down his cuffs, and looking very pugnacious, he entered the private room ready to repel an attack, but to his surprise, his father, who the minute before had been seated looking very irresolute, now became very determined, and pointed to a chair.
“Sit down, my boy,” he said in a low voice.
Sam felt relieved, and he drew forward a chair.
“Sam, my boy,” continued James Brandon, “I’m in terrible trouble.”
“What about, father—money?” James Brandon nodded.