"I've sent down to the joiner. The situation is intolerable. Why, do you
know what I found in it to-day?"
"A packet of sweets," I hazarded ... "chocolates if you were lucky."
"How did you guess?" he cried in amazement.
"My dear fellow, my desk was a sweety shop some days; they used to hide
their packets in every corner of it, then they would come to me and say:
'Please, sir, my pockie is in the wee corner on the right; dinna let
onybody touch it.' Who put them in?" I asked.
"Gladys Miller."
"You have all the luck," I said. "Gladys always buys liquorice rolls,
you know them ... little yellow sweets with the sugarelly inside. Man,
I love yon sweets ... and Gladys knew it, the besom!"
"Oh! It's all very well for you to make a joke of it," he said with
annoyance, "but I tell you I don't like it, and after to-day I guess
it'll be a long time till anybody opens my desk again. I talked to
Gladys to some tune I can tell you."