There was the sharp sound of a gong heard in the next room, and Fred rose to answer it. He glanced first at the old man, and then down at his letter; but a second stroke on the gong made him hurry to the inner door, which he opened, and stood with his head half inside; but a few sharp peremptory words were heard, and he went in and closed the door, leaving Hopper waiting. Fred was not gone many minutes; and when he returned it was to find the visitor had taken a chair, and was busy over the contents of a bulky pocket-book, which he secured as the young man appeared, and returned to the pocket in the breast of his ugly, ill-cut dress-coat. "He says you can go in, but he can only give you ten minutes," said Fred. "Won't see me for ten minutes?" said the old fellow. "Says you may go in for ten minutes," shouted the young man; and then, in a whisper, "Confounded old nuisance!" Old Hopper turned half round, and gave him a peculiar leer, shaking his head and chuckling to himself as he went slowly towards the door of Max Shingle's office, putting down his stick heavily in the recurring pattern of the floorcloth, closely followed by Fred, who showed him in. "What the governor has that deaf old beetle hanging about him for, I can't make out," said the young man, returning to his seat; and he was about to continue his task when a fresh knock at the door made him hastily thrust his papers into the drawer of the table, lock it, and take out the key. "Ah, my dear Hopper, how are you?" said Max, smiling amiably, and making his eyes beam upon his visitor. "Hey? How am I?" snarled the old fellow, giving his stick a thump on the floor. "What's that to you? I'm not dying yet. Ain't you sorry?" "Sorry? Heaven forbid!" said Max unctuously, as he shook his head reproachfully at his visitor, and then, taking hold of his watch-ribbon, threw himself back in his chair and began to spin the seals round and round. "Don't! Be quiet!" cried Hopper, thrusting out the point of his stick, so that the seals struck upon it and were arrested in their motion. "Think I'm not bilious enough with looking at you, without having that thing spun round in my face?" Max laughed, but looked annoyed; while the old fellow took a seat unasked. "What can I do for you?" said Max at last, smiling blandly. "Give me a glass of wine. I'm hot and tired." "Really, I--" began Max. "It's in that stand," said the old fellow, chuckling, as he pointed with his stick at a handsome mahogany cellarette at one end of the room; when Max, whose smile was tempered a good deal with a look of annoyance, rose, sighed, secured the door with a little bolt, and then unlocked the cellarette and took out a decanter and glass. "No, thank you--I don't smoke cigars," said the old fellow, as he watched the sherry poured into the glass. "Hey! You weren't going to offer me one? Ho! I was afraid you were."