The chief accountant received them (a rolled bundle, not a tied-up parcel, and covered inch deep with black dust). He opened it and glanced at the contents—then a strange and unaccountable look came into his eyes as he handed them to Josephus.
"Will you oblige me, Mr. Coppin," he said, "by examining those papers?"
It was the first time that the title of "Mr." had been bestowed upon Josephus during all the years of his long servitude. He was troubled by it, and he could not understand the expression in his chief's eyes; and when he turned to Harry for an explanation he met eyes in which the same sympathy and pity were expressed. When he turned to the boys, his fellow-clerks, he was struck by their faces of wondering expectation.
What was going to happen?
Recovering his presence of mind, he held out the dusty papers and shook the dust off them.
Then he began slowly to obey orders, and to examine them.
Suddenly he began to turn them over with fierce eagerness. His eyes flashed—he gasped.
"Come, Josephus," said his cousin, taking his arm, "gently—gently. What are they, these papers?"
The man laughed, a hysterical laugh.
"They are. Ha! ha! they are—ha! ha! ha!"