adwick.

'Of course, I put money into it. The fact is, I have dropped in for a few
thousands from a good old aunt, who has been awfully kind to me since the
governor and I fell out. I couldn't possibly have found a better
investment, it means eight or nine per cent, my boy, at the very least! And
look here, Humplebee, of course you can keep books?'

'Yes, I can,' answered the listener conscientiously.

'Then, old fellow, a first-rate place is open to you. We want some one we
can thoroughly trust; you're the very man Geldershaw had in his eye. Would
you mind telling me what screw you get at present?'

'Two pounds ten a week.'

'Ha, ha!' laughed Chadwick exultantly. 'With us you shall begin at double
the figure, and I'll see to it that you have a rise after the first year.
What's more, Humplebee, as soon as we get fairly going, I promise you a
share in the business. Don't say a word, old boy! My governor treated you
abominably. I've been in your debt for ten years or so, as you know very
well, and often enough I've felt deucedly ashamed of myself. Five pounds a
week to begin with, and a certainty of a comfortable interest in a thriving
affair! Come, now, is it agreed?'

Humplebee forgot his pain; he felt ready to jump out of bed and travel
straightway to London.

'And you know,' pursued Chadwick, when they had shaken hands warmly, 'that
you have a claim for damages on the railway company. Leave that to me; I'll
put the thing in train at once, through my own solicitor. You shall pocket
a substantial sum, my boy! Well, I'm afraid I must be off; I've got my
hands full of business. Quite a new thing for me to have something serious
to do; I enjoy it! If I can't see you again before I go back to town, you
shall hear from me in a day or two. Here's my London address. Chuck up your
place here at once, so as to be ready for us as soon as your arm's all
right. Geldershaw shall write you a formal engagement.'

Happily his broken arm was the left. Humplebee could use his right hand,
and did so, very soon after Chadwick's departure, to send an account of all
that had befallen him to his friend Mary Bowes. It was the first time he
had written to her. His letter was couched in terms of studious respect,
with many apologies for the liberty he took. Of the accident he made
light--a few days would see him re-established--but he dwelt with some
emphasis upon the meeting with Leonard Chadwick, and what had resulted from
it.

'I di