"You are glib enough when it suits your purpose. Were
_you_ in this? Is this the reason you didn't tell me Iris was on board
till I forced the truth out of you last night?"
The managing clerk came in. Behind him, a couple of juniors and the
office boy supplied reenforcements. They all had the settled
conviction that their employer was a rogue, but he paid them in no
niggardly fashion, and they would not suffer anyone to attack him.
This incursion from the external world had a restorative effect on
Verity. Being what is termed a self-made man, he had a fine sense of
his own importance, and his subordinates' lack of respect forthwith
overcame every other consideration.
"Get out!" he growled, waving a hand toward the door.
"But, sir--please, gentlemen----" stuttered the senior clerk.
"Get out, I tell you! D--n yer eyes, 'oo sent for any of you?"
Undoubtedly David was recovering. The discomfited clerks retired.
Even Dickey Bulmer was quieted a little. But he still shook the
newspaper under David's nose.
"Now!" he cried. "Let's have it. No more of your flamin' made-up
tales. Wot took you to shove the _Andromeda_ into a rat-trap of this
sort?"
David staggered away from the table. He seemed to be laboring for
breath.
"'Arf a mo'.
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