Oliver Bird made no objection to this, but as soon as his eyes fell on the face of Mr. Hartz everything came back to him like a flash.
He glared at the broker, and for a moment it looked to Jack as if there was going to be trouble.
Hartz, however, staved it off by saying, quickly:
“Sit down, Mr. Bird, and we’ll talk the matter over again. I’ve decided to let you have twenty-four hours in which to settle up.”
As Bird sank into the chair, apparently pacified, Jack retired and shut the door.
“You’ve got something going back to Atherton’s, haven’t you?” he said to the dude clerk.
“Upon my word, I don’t know what I did with that envelope you brought. This excitement knocked it out of my mind.”
“I think it’s sticking out of your pocket,” said Jack, with a grin.
“Bless me! So it is. Just wait a moment.” And he rushed over to the head bookkeeper, who, with the cashier, was trying to induce the mob to leave.
Jack had to wait several minutes before another envelope was handed to him to take back.