'Well, not exactly,' replied Mr. Elliott; 'I should like to tell you a little story.'
'Charmed,' murmured the senior partner; 'but I hope it will be a little story, Mr. Elliott, as I and my partner are due very shortly at an important meeting of dock directors.'
Dick plunged at once into his narration, and the senior partner listened attentively, without putting in a single word.
'I see, Mr. Elliott—I see,' he remarked, when Dick had made an end of the story of Chippy's troubles; 'you are in search of a post for your friend?'
'I should be uncommonly glad to find him something,' murmured Dick.
'I'm afraid you've come to the wrong person, Mr. Elliott,' said the shipowner. 'I believe there are some small fry of that kind about the place who fetch parcels from the docks, and that kind of thing, but I really don't concern myself with their appointment—if I may use so important a word—or their dismissals. All those minutiae are in the care of Mr. Malins, the manager.'
'Oh, father, don't put me off with Mr. Malins!' burst out Dick, forgetting his character for a moment in his anxiety. 'I want you to lend me a hand, so as to make it dead sure.'
'Well, Mr. Elliott, you're very pressing,' remarked the senior partner. 'I'll make a note of it, and see what can be done.'
'I'm very much obliged indeed,' murmured Mr. Elliott.
'May I ask your friend's name?'