"Of course you would. Well, then, I'll give you a fortnight's extension; then you can finish them and have plenty of time for Antony Grace as well. Take him round the works, and then you can go down the river for a run. And, by-the-way, Tom, go in one of the new boats, and tip the engineer. Have a good look at those fresh oscillating cylinders, and see whether you think they beat ours. I'm off. You were quite punctual, Antony Grace, or you wouldn't have seen me. Always keep your appointments exactly. Good-morning; glad to see you. Hope you'll get on and like the business. Work hard at it, and mind this--steady application wins. Bring him home to dinner to-night, Tom. Eh? yes." "Mr Williamson to see you, sir," said a clerk. "My compliments to Mr Williamson, and he must make another appointment. He is an hour after the time he named, and I am engaged for the rest of the day. Lesson in punctuality, Antony Grace," he said, nodding. "I'm off." The door closed after his retreating figure, and Tom and I stood staring, probably thinking the same thing, whether we should like one another. The result of the scrutiny was satisfactory to me, for there was something very pleasant in the young fellow's frank open countenance, and I longed to meet with a companion nearly my own age. "Well," he said quietly, "suppose we have a look round. I shan't work any more at my plans this morning. This is my place," he continued, taking me into the inner office, where a great broad mahogany desk was covered with papers. "You'll have that one; it was Bailey's; he was father's pupil; he's gone out to India on the Great Central." I said, "Has he?" but I had no idea whether the Great Central was a ship or a great engine. "There are my plans for a self-acting syphon. Those parts coloured red are where the vacuum valves will come in, and, of course, this lower part takes the place of a steam-pump." "Does it?" I said, laughing. "But I don't understand it a bit." "No, of course not," he said, laughing too. "Well, you'll soon learn. You'll like father, and we'll like you if you'll work well. Bailey and he did not get on at all." "Didn't Bailey work well?" I said, as a vision of the idle apprentice came before my eyes. "Father used to say he was like an engine with a bad stoker. He was either racing, or there was no steam un. He'd work furiously for two days, and then he'd idle for a week." "Mr Girtley is fond of work, then?" "Father says everyone was meant to work, and life's too short for all we have to do. But he likes play, too. We have a cricket-field at home, and a billiard-table, and bowls--all sorts of games. Father plays at all of them when he's at home and isn't gardening. He calls it oiling his machinery and slackening his bands. Come along, I'll show you the factory, and our workshop, where you and I will have to work, making models, and then we'll oil our machinery." "Shall we have to make models?" I cried eagerly.