After all it was not such very alarming work. A few people dropped in during the day and paid small amounts in cash, which I received, and carefully entered on my sheet. And a few demands came from various quarters for small disbursements in the way of postage-stamps, telegrams, cab fares, and the like, all which I also carefully entered on the other side of my account.
Before I left in the evening I balanced the two sides, and found the cash in my box tallying exactly with the amount that appeared on my sheet. Whereat I rejoiced exceedingly, and, locking-up my desk, thought the keeping of the petty-cash was ridiculously simple work.
That evening when I reached the lodgings I found Jack had arrived before me. I was eager to hear of his success or otherwise at the examination, and he was prepared to gratify my curiosity.
He had got on well, he thought. The viva-voce portion, which he had dreaded most, had been easy, or, at any rate, the questions which fell-to him had been such as he could readily answer. As for the written part, all he could say was that he had replied to all the questions, and he believed correctly, although time prevented him from doing one or two as full justice as they deserved. In fact, after talking it over, we both came to the conclusion that the day’s effort had been a success, and if to-morrow turned out as well, all doubt as to the result might be dispensed with.
Then I told him of my adventures, which did not seem altogether to overjoy him.
“I don’t know why it is,” said he, “but Hawkesbury is a fellow I cannot but mistrust.”
“But,” said I, “I don’t see what there can possibly be to suspect in his handing over this simple account to me to keep.”
“All I can say is,” said he, “I wish he hadn’t done it. Why didn’t he hand it over to Doubleday?”
“I wondered at that,” said I, “but there’s no love lost between those two. Doubleday says he thinks he did it because I am a bit of a fool, and he wants the pleasure of seeing me in a mess over the account.”
Jack laughed.