"Not at all, Mr. McAllister; not at all. We are always delighted to serve you by any means in our power. Did Wessons say they would be finished to-morrow? Then to-morrow they shall be, sir. I'll set my men at work immediately. Pedler! Where's Pedler? Send him here at once!"
A hollow-eyed, lank, round-shouldered journeyman parted the curtains that concealed the rear of the room, and nervously approached his employer. He blinked at the unaccustomed sunlight, suppressing a cough.
"Did you call me, sir?"
"Yes," replied Pondel with the severity of one granting an undeserved favor. "This is Mr. McAllister, of whom you have heard us speak so often. I believe you have cut several of the gentleman's suits. He is to take the Majestic, which sails early Monday morning, and I have promised that his clothes shall be ready to-morrow evening. Can you arrange to stay here to-night and whatever portion of to-morrow is necessary to finish them?"
A worried look passed over the man's face, and his hand flew to his mouth to strangle another cough.
"Certainly, sir; that is—of course— Yes, sir. May I ask how many, sir?"
"Only three, I believe. I was sure it could be arranged. Please ask Aggam to assist you. That is all."
"Yes, sir. Very good, sir." Pedler hesitated a moment as if about to speak, then turned listlessly and plodded back behind the curtains.
"Very obliging man—Pedler. You see, there will be no difficulty, Mr. McAllister."
"Well, I don't see how on earth you're going to do it!" protested McAllister feebly. He wanted the clothes badly, now that he had seen the material. "It's mighty good of you to take all this trouble."