time, retaining Bindle's services. He bit the top of his pen meditatively. It was Bindle who solved the problem.
"I better resign," he suggested, "and then join up again later, sir. You can write an' say I'm under notice to go."
The manager pondered awhile. He was responsible for the conduct of the affairs of the Depository, and, after all. Sir Charles Custance and the others had been mainly responsible for what had occurred.
"I'll think the matter over," he remarked. "In the meantime Brooks is away, Mr. Colter is ill, and Jameson hasn't turned up this morning, and we have that move in West Kensington to get through during the day. Do you think that you can be responsible for it?"
"Sure of it, sir. I been in the perfession, man and boy, all me life."
The West London Furniture Depository made a specialty of moving clients' furniture whilst they were holiday-making. They undertook to set out the rooms in the new house exactly as they had been in the old, with due allowance for a changed geography.
"Here is the specification," said the manager, handing to Bindle a paper. "Now how will you set to work?"
"'Five bed, two reception, one study, one kitchen, one nursery,'" read Bindle. "Two vans'll do it, sir. Best bedroom, servant's
