Mr. Roundjacket descended from his stool, and cast his eyes upon the paper.
"What!" he cried, "you made that picture! How, sir Upon my word, young man, you are in a bad way. The youngster who stops to make designs upon a copy of a deed in a law office, is on the high-road to the gallows. It is an enormity, sir—horrible! dreadful!"
"What the devil are you shouting about there!" cried the voice of Mr. Rushton, angrily. And opening the door between the two rooms, the shaggy-headed gentleman appeared upon the threshold.
Roundjacket turned over the sheet of paper upon which Verty's design had been made; and then turned to reply to the words addressed to him.
"I am using my privilege to correct this youngster," he replied, with a flourish of his ruler, apparently designed to impress the shaggy head with the idea that he, Mr. Roundjacket, would not permit any infringement of his rights and privileges.
"You are, are you?" said Mr. Rushton.
"Yes, sir," replied the clerk.
"And what do you find to correct in Mr. Verty?"
"Many things."
"Specify."