arges and profits, invoice them again in Spanish money.

"A nice spicy little bit of conjuring," as Doubleday described it, who,
rackety fellow as he was, always warmed up to business difficulties.

He and I agreed to stay and finish the thing off after the others had
gone, an arrangement I was very glad for all reasons to fall in with.

We worked away hammer-and-tongs for two hours (for it was a very lengthy
and intricate operation), exchanging no words except such as had
reference to our common task.

At last it was completed. The calculations and additions had all been
doubly checked, and the fair copies and their duplicates written out,
and then, for the first time, we were at leisure to think and speak of
other topics.

Few things tend to draw two fellows together like hard work in common,
and Doubleday and I, with the consciousness of our task well and
honestly accomplished, found ourselves on specially friendly terms with
one another.

Despite his extravagance and mischief, there had always been a good-
nature and a frankness about the head clerk which had made me like him
better than most of his companions either in or out of the office.
Although he had never been backward to lead others into trouble, he had
usually stopped short before any harm was done. Even in the
persecutions of Jack Smith, many of which he had instigated himself,
there was never any of the spite on his side which characterised the
conduct of Crow, Wallop, and Harris. And although he never professed to
admire my friend, he never denied him fair play when he was roused to
resistance.

"Well," said he, shutting up the inkpot, and throwing our rough copies
of the invoice into the waste-paper basket, "that's a good job done.
You're not a bad hand at a big grind, young Batchelor. Crow or Wallop
would have left me to do it all by myself."

Of course I was pleased at the compliment. I replied, "I rather enjoyed
it."

"Well, there's not another fellow in the office would do the same," said
he.

Wasn't there? I thought I knew better. "I think there's one other
fellow," I said, hesitatingly. "Eh--oh, Bull's-eye! Yes, you're right
there, and he'd have knocked it off smarter than you've done too, my
boy." There was a pause after this. We had both accidentally got on to
an awkward topic. Doubleday was the first to speak.

"I say, Batchelor," he went on, quite nervously for him, "excuse my
saying it, but it's my opinion you're a