My Friend Smith Part 22

"Stonebridge House, sir."

"Where is that?"

"In Cliffs.h.i.+re."

"And you think you would suit us?"

"I'd try, sir," said I.

"Do you know what our work is?" said Mr Barnacle.

"No, sir, not exactly," I replied.

"Generally speaking," mildly put in Mr Merrett, "you've a sort of idea."

"Yes," said I, not quite sure whether I was telling the truth or not.

Mr Barnacle touched his bell, and the clerk appeared.

"Bring me the invoice-book, Doubleday."

Mr Doubleday returned directly with a large account-book, which he deposited on the table before the junior partner.

Mr Barnacle pushed it towards me.

"I want a list made out of all the goods sent to Mr Walker, of Bombay, since the beginning of the year. Let me see you make it out." Then touching his bell again, he said to Mr Doubleday, the clerk, "Here, Doubleday, give this boy some invoice paper and a pen, and let him write at your desk. He is to make a copy of all Walker's invoices since the beginning of this year."

"Yes, sir," said Doubleday.

"Be particular that he receives no a.s.sistance, and bring me the sheets when completed. Batchelor, take this book and follow Mr Doubleday to the counting-house."

"Do it as well as you can, without any help," mildly put in Mr Merrett, by way of encouragement.

I followed my conductor in a state of terrible trepidation, feeling that all this wasn't a bit like what I had expected my interview with Messrs.

Merrett, Barnacle, and Company to be.

"Here, hop up, young fellow," said Mr Doubleday, pointing to a high stool at one of the desks, "and pull up your boot."

I concluded this last expression meant make haste, and I accordingly pulled up my boot, and lost no time in setting myself to my task.

I was to make out a list of all that Walker of Bombay had had since the beginning of the year. I opened the big account-book; it contained a great many accounts, some long, some short. I began at the beginning, and searched through for any belonging to Walker of Bombay.

At length, after about twenty pages, I found an entry dated December 30th last year. That would not do; I was only to make a list of what had been sent this year; and yet, on looking again, I saw it noted that these goods, though entered on the 30th of December, had not been s.h.i.+pped till the 2nd of January. Here was a poser to begin with. I looked up and caught the eye of Doubleday, who, evidently enjoying my perplexity, was watching me.

"I say," I ventured to say, "does he mean--"

"Hold your tongue, sir," broke out the virtuous Doubleday. "Didn't you hear Mr Barnacle say you were to get no a.s.sistance? What do you mean by it? I'm ashamed of you; so's Wallop."

"I shall mention the matter to the governor," observed Wallop, with a grin at his ally.

"Oh, don't," I said. "I beg your pardon!" It was evidently hopeless to expect any light from without on the problem, so I decided for myself I would include the account in question. I was just beginning to copy it out, and to shut my ears to the chaff that was going on around me, when the counting-house door opened, and the solemn face of my friend Smith appeared, asking if Messrs. Merrett, Barnacle, and Company were at home.

His quick eye detected me at once, and I felt very uncomfortable, lest he should misunderstand the state of affairs and jump to the conclusion that I had been already engaged by the firm. At all risks I determined to put him right on this point.

"I'm not taken on, Jack," I said, before his question had been answered.

"They've given me--"

"I'll give you a box on the ears, young gentleman," broke out the amazed Doubleday. "You're forgetting yourself. Go on with your work. Now then, young hop-o'-my-thumb," said he, addressing himself to Smith, "what do you want?"

Smith solemnly produced a letter, which he exhibited to the senior clerk.

"Oh, you're after the place too, are you, young bull's-eye?"

"Yes," said Smith, solemnly, and apparently not aware that the last expression had been intended as a joke.

"Why don't you laugh, eh?" cried Wallop; "we all laugh here when Doubles makes a joke; don't we, Crow?"

Mr Crow, thus appealed to, replied, "Oh, of course. We don't get much laughing, though."

Mr Doubleday waxed red in the face at this, and rounded on Smith.

"Don't go staring at me, do you hear? Look in the fireplace, can't you?

and then you won't set alight to anything. Do you know this kid here?"

added he, pointing at me over his shoulder.

"Yes," replied Smith.

"Do you know he's after the place?"

"Yes," said Smith.

"Then what do you want to come after it for? One of you's enough, ain't it?"

Smith stared solemnly at the speaker, whereat that virtuous individual waxed once more very wroth.

"Look here, if you can't cast your eyes somewhere else, young fellow, I'll cast them for you, so now. Why don't you answer my question?"

"I was told to be here at half-past ten," replied Jack.

"Then what do you mean by coming at twenty-eight past, eh, you young ruffian? Stay outside the door till the right time."

Smith obeyed solemnly, and for exactly two minutes remained outside. At the end of that period he returned.

Mr Doubleday, evidently perplexed for the moment how to get a rise out of him, announced him to the partners, and I saw him vanish into the inner-room.

"I say, Wallop," said Doubleday, when he had disappeared, "I hope they're not going to take on a couple of them."

My heart bounded as I listened. The bare suggestion was delightful.