I was about to specify more particularly that the firm had about forty thousand dollars' worth of stock on hand more than appeared in the lumber book, when Mr. Whippleton returned. He evidently understood what I was doing, and told me to make up the bank account.
"You needn't say anything to Faxon about his book. Let him keep it, if he wishes to do so," said he.
"I did say something to him."
"You did? What did you say?"
"I only told him you didn't think his book was reliable."
"That's no more than the truth, but you need not mention the matter again. It will only make unpleasant feeling. Smooth it over if he says anything more about it, and let the matter drop."
I was rather puzzled, but I went on with the bank account.
"And by the way, Phil, you needn't say anything to Mr. Collingsby about those invoices," he added, a little while after.
"I shall not be likely to do so. He hardly ever speaks to me, and I never do to him, unless it is to answer a question."
"He's very fussy and particular. It was careless in me to leave those papers at home, but it is all right now. This is a fine day, Phil, and we will take a sail about four o'clock if you like."