Before their young friend was liberated there came a thump at the door communicating with the staircase, followed by the apparition of a dripping youth who poked in his head.Pemberton recognised him as the bearer of a telegram and recognised the telegram as addressed to himself.Morgan came back as, after glancing at the signature - that of a relative in London - he was reading the words: "Found a jolly job for you, engagement to coach opulent youth on own terms.Come at once." The answer happily was paid and the messenger waited.Morgan, who had drawn near, waited too and looked hard at Pemberton; and Pemberton, after a moment, having met his look, handed him the telegram.It was really by wise looks - they knew each other so well now - that, while the telegraph-boy, in his waterproof cape, made a great puddle on the floor, the thing was settled between them.Pemberton wrote the answer with a pencil against the frescoed wall, and the messenger departed.When he had gone the young man explained himself.
"I'll make a tremendous charge; I'll earn a lot of money in a short time, and we'll live on it.""Well, I hope the opulent youth will be a dismal dunce - he probably will - " Morgan parenthesised - "and keep you a long time a-hammering of it in.""Of course the longer he keeps me the more we shall have for our old age.""But suppose THEY don't pay you!" Morgan awfully suggested.
"Oh there are not two such - !" But Pemberton pulled up; he had been on the point of using too invidious a term.Instead of this he said "Two such fatalities."Morgan flushed - the tears came to his eyes."Dites toujours two such rascally crews!" Then in a different tone he added: "Happy opulent youth!""Not if he's a dismal dunce."