Then Mr.
Winterbottom came to the rescue.
"He's here.

Where is he?
Morel's lad ?" The fat, red, bald little man peered round with keen eyes.

He pointed at the fireplace.

The colliers looked round, moved aside, and disclosed the boy.
"Here he is!" said Mr.Winterbottom.
Paul went to the counter.
"Seventeen pounds eleven and fivepence.

Why don't you shout up when you're called ?" said Mr.Braithwaite.He banged on to the invoice a five-pound bag of silver, then in a delicate and pretty movement, picked up a little ten-pound column of gold, and plumped it beside the silver.
The gold slid in a bright stream over the paper.