“Look here,” said he, catching Jack by the arm and drawing him away from his adversary, “we aren’t used to that here, I can tell you! Go to your desk! Do you hear? There’s the governor coming up! A nice row you’ll get us into with your temper! Come, you Wallop, up you get, I say—you beast! I’m jolly glad the young ’un walked into you. Serves you right! Look alive, or you’ll be nobbled!”
The result of these exertions was that when the door opened half a minute later the office was, to all appearance, as quiet as usual.
To our surprise, the comer was not Mr Barnacle, who usually arrived first, but Mr Merrett, who on other days hardly ever put in an appearance till an hour later.
What was the reason of this reversal of the order of things we could not say, and did not much care. Indeed, it was rather a relief to see the mild senior partner instead of the sharp-eyed junior, who was, some of us thought, far too quick to perceive anything amiss. Jack’s face brightened as much as any one’s at the circumstance. For a moment he forgot all his wrath, and thought only of his poor sister.
He followed Mr Merrett quickly to the door of the partners’ room and said eagerly, “May I speak to you a moment, sir?”
“Yes, my man; come in,” was the encouraging reply.
“Gone to tell tales, I suppose,” said Crow, as the door closed on the two.
“No, he’s not,” said I, ready to take up the gauntlet for my friend; “and you’d better not say it again!”
“Oh, I say! Look here,” said Doubleday, “don’t you begin at that game, young shaver! We’re used to it from your chum bull’s-eye, but I’m not going to let you start at it. Besides, Crow wouldn’t like it. Get on with your work, do you hear?”
Jack reappeared in a minute with a grateful face, which showed at once that his application had been successful.