“When did you balance your cash last?”
“Yesterday afternoon.”
“Did it come out right?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, with the utmost confidence.
“Close the door, if you please.”
I did so, and though Mr. Bristlebach did not often take the trouble to spare any one’s feelings, this order looked ominous to me. I would give all my earthly hopes at this moment for the consciousness of the rectitude of my character which I possessed at that time. I shut the door, and took my stand again in the august presence of the great man—he was great to me, if he was not to others.
“Mr. Glasswood!” continued Mr. Bristlebach, sternly.
I bowed meekly, to intimate that I was ready to hear anything he pleased to say.
“Your cash is not right.”