There seemed a desire on the part of the others that night to make Porter Jones work as hard as it is possible for a man to work. The heaviest hampers were confided to his care; the slimiest cases of fish were placed upon his shoulder; he it was who was told off to see to some consignments of rather advanced venison. The parcel of valuable cigars remained in the Number Five bin to be transferred to another Company by the first delivery in the morning, and it was observed that whenever Porter Jones came into the office he glanced in that direction. Now the Up Office, as I have hinted, had been perturbed over the recent complaints, and the mere fact that they had to fill up memoranda in regard to the various investigations, to the effect that, “I beg to say in reference to the attached papers that I know nothing whatever of the matter, I am, sir, your obedient servant,” this in itself was enough to put a keener edge on observation. Wherefore, a secret meeting was held near the gas-stove by the booking-up desk, and it was decided that the new man should be watched closely; it was felt it would be a proud and estimable thing for the office, the character of which was at this period slurred, if it could itself detect a wrong-doer and take him to justice. And should it happen that the detected one proved to be a new man with no friends in the department to lament his fall, then the most doubtful would have to revert to old beliefs in a wise and thoughtful Providence. Their suspicions were increased by the fact that whenever Porter Jones, in the brief intervals between work from nine o’clock onwards, resumed conversation, he invariably bent its direction towards the subject of cigars. “Take no notice,” whispered the foreman to his colleagues. “At least when I say take no notice, I mean take all the notice you can, but keep your little heads shut as tight as possible.” “Shall one of us lay up for him?” “Who’s the smallest?” asked the foreman, with an air of having already thought of this device. “I are,” said the boy porter. “Evidently,” remarked the foreman, looking down at him, “evidently a chap of superior education. Country born, ain’t you?” “I were.” “Then,” said the foreman, “up you jump behind them ‘books off’ and you watch, my lad, watch Sunset for all you are worth.”