“That is not the packet,” cried his father. “There were four deeds tied up with green silk ribbon. I explained to you exactly what they were like. Surely you had more common-sense than to think these things were what I wanted!”
“Don’t I tell you I had to take them in a hurry?” said Sam, smiling at his father’s anxious face, as he kept one hand still in his breast, and now with a triumphant air flourished out a great cartridge paper envelope. “There,” he cried; “will that do then?”
“No, no, no,” said James Brandon angrily; “four deeds tied up with green silk ribbon, I tell you;” and he waved the thick envelope aside, but Sam still held it out.
“Don’t you be in such a hurry, gov’nor,” he cried. “That’s the packet, only perhaps the old man put the deeds in the envelope. Look inside.”
Sam’s father snatched the packet from his son’s hand, dragged out its contents, which were tied together with green ribbon indeed, and proved to be written in a round legal hand; but as he read the endorsements one by one, he threw them contemptuously down with a groan.
“What, ain’t those right?” cried the lad, speaking anxiously now.
“Right? No,” cried his father. “There, I see you are playing with me. Where is the right packet?”
“Right? The right packet? I made sure that was it. I opened that old bureau of his, and these deeds and things were all together.”
“Oh, Sam! Sam!” groaned his father.
“It was quite dark, you know, and I had to work by feel till I got the drawers open, and then I lit a match or two, so as to make sure which was the packet I wanted. There were the four things together tied up with green silk ribbon, and I had no time to read them even if I’d wanted to; but I felt so sure it was not necessary.”