"Dat ole mis'ry in ma back done cotched me jes' when Ah got to de las' step," he explained. "Ah hope dey ain't much damage done to dat 'er box."
"Pretty badly done up, it seems to me," remarked Winters, as he surveyed the broken chest critically.
"Never mind, Sam," consoled Drew. "It wasn't your fault and the old box wasn't of much account anyway."
Just then Tyke thrust his head out of his office to learn the meaning of the crash. At the sight of the broken box he came into the shop.
"How did this happen?" he asked.
"Ah couldn't help it, Mistah Grimshaw," said Sam ruefully. "Ma back jes' nacherly give way, an' Ah had to let go. Ah'm pow'ful sorry, sah."
Sam was a favorite with the old man, who refrained from scolding him but stood a moment looking curiously at the box.
"Carry it into the office," he said at last to Sam. "And you, Allen, come along."