“No, I don’t, sir, though I’m there, and I wish to goodness Mr Clive Reed was back, for Sturgess is unbearable with his bullying ways; and as for Mr Jessop, he’s no more like his brother than chalk’s like cheese. Think there’s any chance of Mr Clive coming back?”
“Yes, my lad, every chance, if we’re true to him,” cried the Major; “and I beg your pardon, Mr Robson, I thought you were one of the scoundrels. I’m very glad to find you are not.”
“I thank you, sir,” cried the young man; “and if you write to Mr Clive Reed, please tell him so long as I’m in the mine office the books shall be kept just as he wished, so that any one can see at a glance how matters stand.”
“And I thank you too, Mr Robson. I, as a shareholder, am very glad that we have so good a man in your administrative post. But tell me, how are the returns?”
“Wonderful, sir. They increase every day. The profits will be enormous.”
“And is this man Sturgess doing his duty?”
“Oh! yes, sir, splendidly,” said Robson, laughing. “By his new agreement he is to get a percentage upon the metal smelted. I don’t like him, but there’s no mistake in his working.”
“Humph, that’s right,” growled the Major.
“And now, sir, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go, for if it was known that I talked about the mine affairs, I should be packed off; and for Mr Clive Reed’s sake I want to stay.”
“Right: good day. I daresay we shall run up against each other again.”