"Only Sharp, from Parkinson's," said Mr. Jinks, who was already deep in letter-writing. "Well," said his principal, "what did he want?" "He came to know if you'd be in another two hundred for Mr. Beresford," replied Jinks, looking up from his work. "He's been hit at Doncaster, and wants the money most immediate." "Then he won't get it from me," said Mr. Scadgers; "I won't have no more of his paper, at no price. He's up to his neck already, is Mr. Beresford; and that old aunt of his don't mean dying yet, from all I hear." "There's the bishop," suggested Jinks. "Oh, blow the bishop! He might be bled on the square, but he'd turn precious rusty if he thought it was stiff he was paying for. No, no; Master Beresford's taking lodgings in Queer Street, I fancy; Parkinson holds more of his paper than you think of, and if he wants to go deeper, he must go by himself; I won't be in it." "All right," said Jinks; "I'll put a cross against his name in the books. Rittman's boy looked in to see if his father could have two pounds till Saturday. I told him to call again this afternoon." "Till Saturday," said Scadgers with a grin. "You never see such a Saturday as that'll be, Jinks. Poor devil! there's nothing but the carcass left there; and he's worked well too, and brought us plenty of custom, though not of the best sort. Let the boy have a sovereign when he comes, Jinks, and tell him if his father don't pay, I'll put him in prison; not that he'll mind that one dump. Oh, by the way, give me all the paper of young Prescott's that you've got by you." Mr. Jinks opened a large iron safe let into the wall just behind his stool, and from a drawer therein took out a bundle of tape-tied papers. From this he selected four, and as he handed them over to his principal, said, "Here they are; two with Pringle, one with Compton, and one IOU.,--total, one seventy-five. I was going to ask you what you intended to do about them. The young feller was here yesterday wanting to see you, and looking regularly down upon his luck." "Ah," said Scadgers, "there's something up about them--what, I don't know; but I'm a-goin' on that business now. I shall be away for an hour or two, Jinks." "You ain't a-goin' to get married, are you, Mr. Scadgers?" asked the little old man with a look of alarm; "it would never do to bring a female into the concern." Scadgers laughed outright. "Married! no, you old fool, not I. Can't a man put on a bit of finery"--here be smoothed the yellow shirt-frill with his grimy fingers--"without your supposing there's a woman in the case? However, I'm goin' to call upon a lady, and that's the truth; but all in a matter of business. Hand over them bills of Prescott's, and don't expect me till you see me."