So presently the boy came back with the paper, and Sam, folding it up, put it in his pocket, and went home to see what was happening in the great world.
CHAPTER IX
Fortunately for his stomach’s sake, at any rate, it was the weekly half-holiday, so that Mr. Corrie, having closed the shop at one, was free to relieve his sister in the post office and dispatch her to prepare, with all speed, something in the way of dinner. He was a little astonished at the eagerness with which she departed to do his bidding.
A minute later she was back, looking as though she had seen a ghost.
“John, where’s the paper?”
“What paper?”
“The morning paper. Quick!—what ha’ ye done wi’ it?”
He turned from the counter with a grunt of impatience. “Get my dinner ready and never heed about the paper! If ye want to ken, Zeniths dropped six-and-threepence yesterday—no’ that it matters to us now. Away wi’ ye and hurry up.”
“John, for the love o’ God, tell me where the paper is!”
That startled him. “What the mischief’s wrong wi’ ye, woman?” he demanded, regarding her frowningly. “Sam, the postman, got the paper. There wasna another in the shop—”