“Oh, that’s it? He’s been coming out in that line has he?”
I hurriedly narrated the morning’s adventures, greatly to his astonishment and wrath. He took in the situation at once.
“Jolly awkward fix,” said he. “Seen the cheque?”
“No; Mr Barnacle is down at the bank now.”
“Doubleday,” said Crow, entering at this moment, “the governors want you—sharp.”
“They are going to send you for a policeman,” I said. “If anything happens, Doubleday, will you please telegraph to Smith, at Mrs Shield’s, Packworth, and tell him to come to me, and also find out Billy, the shoeblack, and say I want to see him.”
Doubleday looked at me with something like amazement as I made this request, which, however, he promised to fulfil, and then waited on Mr Merrett in the partners’ room.
However, he returned almost immediately, and said he was to wait until Mr Barnacle came back.
It seemed ages before that event happened. Meanwhile Doubleday advised me not to be seen talking to him, or anybody, but to go to my desk and keep my own counsel. It was good advice, and I took it. Mr Barnacle returned presently, accompanied by a man who I fancied must be connected with the bank. The two partners and this stranger were closeted together for some time in the inner-room, and then Doubleday was summoned.
After what seemed a century he emerged and beckoned to me to go in. “You’re wanted,” he said.