“Why?” I asked. “Isn't he a good employer?”
Replacing his glass eye, he turned again to his work. “If employment is what you want,” answered Mr. Minikin, “you'll get it. Best employer in London. He'll keep you going for twenty-four hours a day, and then offer you overtime at half salary.”
“I must get something to do,” I confessed.
“Sit down then,” suggested Mr. Minikin. “Rest while you can.”
I took the chair; it was the only chair in the room, with the exception of the one Minikin was sitting on.
“Apart from his being a bit of a driver,” I asked, “what sort of a man is he? Is he pleasant?”
“Never saw him put out but once,” answered Minikin.
It sounded well. “When was that?” I asked.
“All the time I've known him.”
My spirits continued to sink. Had I been left alone with Minikin much longer, I might have ended by following his advice, “hooking it” before Mr. Lott arrived. But the next moment I heard the other door open, and some one entered the private office. Then the bell rang, and Minikin disappeared, leaving the communicating door ajar behind him. The conversation that I overheard was as follows: