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Barker and Morel were both impatient of Wesson. But, then, they were
both as hard as nails, physically.
When Morel was nearly ready he pushed the bag of money to Paul.
"Count it, boy," he asked humbly.
Paul impatiently turned from his books and pencil, tipped the bag upside
down on the table. There was a five-pound bag of silver, sovereigns and
loose money. He counted quickly, referred to the checks--the written
papers giving amount of coal--put the money in order. Then Barker
glanced at the checks.
Mrs. Morel went upstairs, and the three men came to table. Morel, as
master of the house, sat in his armchair, with his back to the hot fire.
The two butties had cooler seats. None of them counted the money.
"What did we say Simpson's was?" asked Morel; and the butties cavilled
for a minute over the dayman's earnings. Then the amount was put aside.
"An' Bill Naylor's?"
This money also was taken from the pack.
Then, because Wesson lived in one of the company's houses, and his rent
had been deducted, Morel and Barker took four-and-six each.


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