Sam smiled gently and took his departure. Main Street had quite a busy look now. A few blocks further along, and on the opposite side, what Tom had called the “new building” reared its fourteen stories high above the older structures. It was there that Mr. Hall had his office, and Sam, as he approached, searched the signs on the lower windows. He didn’t see Mr. Hall’s name, however, and before he could begin on the next tier there was a collision and Sam, recovering his balance and murmuring an apology, looked up into the smiling face of a tall man of about thirty years of age.
“No harm done,” said the man pleasantly. “My fault, too, I guess.”
He stepped to the right and at the same instant Sam embarrassedly stepped to the left. “Beg pardon,” muttered Sam, and stepped further toward the curb. So did the tall man. Sam felt the blood creeping into his face. The man laughed.
“Well, we’ll never get anywhere this way, will we?” he asked. “Now I tell you what we’ll do. You stand quite still”—the man held up an admonishing finger—“and I’ll carefully walk around you. Don’t move!”
Sam, very red of face, obeyed silently and the tall man circled him to the left. “All right!” he said. “We’re off again!”
Sam looked after him. He walked with a quick, springy stride and wore a yellow and somewhat battered Panama hat. The horrible suspicion forced itself into Sam’s mind that the man was John Hall! Tom had said that he was tall and thin, and wore a ten-year-old Panama. Sam couldn’t be certain about the age of that hat, but it looked as if it might easily have seen ten summers, and the man was tall, decidedly tall and thin. There could be no doubt about it! Sam very cautiously moved to a window and gazed unseeingly into it, conscious of the amused glances of several bystanders and of the heightened colour in his face. What an idiot Mr. Hall must think him, he mused. Well, there was no use trying to find him in his office now, for he had disappeared in the throng in the other direction. Sam was heartily glad of it, for he had very little taste left for that visit. Perhaps to-morrow—or the next day——
He made his way back toward Cummings and Wright’s. He had meant to make a purchase there and had forgotten it. He was still thinking of that awkward moment on the sidewalk when he entered the store, and didn’t observe that Tom was busy with a customer until he had himself reached the counter. Even then he paid no heed to the man beside him until Tom caught sight of him, and grinned maliciously and observed:
“Hello, Sam! How are directories selling?”
Then, following the other’s glance, Sam discovered, to his embarrassment, that the customer was none other than the man in the Panama hat. The latter was selecting half a dozen golf balls from a box that Tom had presented, and had been very intent on his task until Tom’s greeting called the newcomer to his attention. Then he glanced up, and a smile of recognition came to his face.
“Ah,” he said, “my late adversary!”