“Well, what is it?” said Morris.
“It’s only the name of one of the persons who’s to witness your signature, Morris,” replied Michael. “His name’s Moss, my dear.”
There was a long silence. “I might have been sure it was you!” cried Morris.
“You’ll sign, won’t you?” said Michael.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” cried Morris. “You’re compounding a felony.”
“Very well, then, we won’t compound it, Morris,” returned Michael. “See how little I understood the sterling integrity of your character! I thought you would prefer it so.”
“Look here, Michael,” said John, “this is all very fine and large; but how about me? Morris is gone up, I see that; but I’m not. And I was robbed, too, mind you; and just as much an orphan, and at the blessed same academy as himself.”
“Johnny,” said Michael, “don’t you think you’d better leave it to me?”
“I’m your man,” said John. “You wouldn’t deceive a poor orphan, I’ll take my oath. Morris, you sign that document, or I’ll start in and astonish your weak mind.”
With a sudden alacrity, Morris proffered his willingness. Clerks were brought in, the discharge was executed, and there was Joseph a free man once more.