There was a locked-up room, and a continually-closed door shutting off a back staircase, of both of which Old File and Young File possessed keys that were never so much as trusted in the possession of the rest of us.

There was also a trap-door in the floor of the principal workroom, the use of which was known to nobody but the doctor and his two privileged men.

If we had not been all nearly on an equality in the matter of wages, these distinctions would have made bad blood among us.

As it was, nobody having reason to complain of unjustly-diminished wages, nobody cared about any preferences in which profit was not involved.
The doctor must have gained a great deal of money by his skill as a coiner.

His profits in business could never have averaged less than five hundred per cent; and, to do him justice, he was really a generous as well as a rich master.
Even I, as a new hand, was, in fair proportion, as well paid by the week as the rest.
We, of course, had nothing to do with the passing of false money--we only manufactured it (sometimes at the rate of four hundred pounds' worth in a week); and left its circulation to be managed by our customers in London and the large towns.