“All right!” said Wallop; “I’ll put off asking for a rise till next week.”
I was presumptuous enough to laugh at this, which greatly offended both the magnates. Doubleday ordered me to my desk instantly.
“Get on with your work, do you hear? and don’t stand grinning there!”
“What had I better do?” I inquired, mildly.
“Do?” said Mr Doubleday, proceeding to take up his pen and settle himself to work; “I’ll let you know what to— Look here. Crow,” he broke off, in a rage, pointing to one of the ink puddles which that hero had made, “here’s the same beastly mess again! Every Monday it’s the same—ink all over the place! Why on earth don’t you keep your messes to yourself?”
“That young ’un filled up to-day,” said Crow, coolly pointing to me.
I was so astounded by this false charge that I could hardly speak. At last I retorted, “I didn’t; you know I didn’t!”
“Yes, you did!” said Crow.
“I didn’t fill up that pot; it was done before I got here.”
“Don’t tell lies!” said Crow.