"Did he?"
"Of course he did; and, if you've got through sweeping out, you'd better let him know I'm on hand."
"Go yourself."
"Thank you for your polite invitation. They didn't examine you in good manners when they took you in here, did they?"
"You're an impertinent fellow."
"Thank you. You ought to be a good judge of impudence. I'll see you again soon—hope you won't miss me much."
Our hero, who, it must be confessed, was not troubled by bashfulness, made a low bow to his opponent, and, advancing to the counting-room, opened the door. Mr. Ferguson looked up from his letters.
"Take a seat, Grey," he said, "and I'll speak to you in a moment."
"Thank you," said Tom, who knew how to be polite when it was proper to be so.
At the end of fifteen minutes Mr. Ferguson looked up.