After some time he saw Halliday beckoning to him from the other side of the room.
“Now you’ve got to go to the doctor,” said he; “come along.”
This was the first time my master had fully realised the solemn nature of the approaching interview, and I felt his heart flutter as he inquired,—
“I say, what will he say to me?”
“Oh, all sorts of things; you’d better mind what you’re up to, I can tell you,” was the reassuring reply.
“Do you think I shall get in a row for driving the cab yesterday?” faltered Charlie.
“Shouldn’t wonder,” was the reply.
“Oh, dear! And do you think he saw me hit Johnny Walker in the eye at breakfast?”
“What, were you the boy who was kicking up all that row? My eye! you’re in for it! Here you are; I’ll knock for you.”
And giving the poor trembling boy not so much as an instant in which to collect his flurried ideas, Joe gave a rap at the door, which was answered at once by a sharp “Come in!” from within.