"Hulloa!" cried the old man, "what is the meaning of this? Who are you, eh?" he inquired sharply, fixing his piercing gaze on the young man, who shrank back abashed. "Are you here to help my assistant in wasting his time, pray?"
Herbert Hambly had not believed it when John Monday had told him that his master was within; he had thought the boy had merely made the statement to get rid of him; but though taken aback by Mr. Harding's sudden appearance, he quickly regained his self-command, and answered with great assurance—
"Not at all, sir! I called purely on a business matter. I wish to have a look at some tie-pins."
Mr. Harding brought forward a tray covered with an assortment of the ornaments mentioned, and laid it on the counter. Motioning to John Monday to stand aside, he took his place behind the counter. The young man turned over the pins in silence for a while, pretending to examine them carefully; then said he could not see one exactly like what he wanted.
"No, I imagined you would not," Mr. Harding remarked quietly, putting the tray on one side, and leaning across the counter to stare into the other's face as though he wished to remember his features. "Take my word for it, there's nothing in this shop that's likely to suit you— and, don't come again!"
"What do you mean?" began Herbert Hambly, assuming a blustering manner.
"I mean that I won't have you here, nor shall you have anything to do with my assistant. I know quite enough about you to be aware that your company is most undesirable; in fact, I think my best plan will be to ask the police to keep an eye on your movements."
Though this was only said in a threat, it had the desired effect of completely subduing the young man and knocking all the bravado out of him; casting a vindictive glance at John Monday, he beat a speedy retreat, and in another moment had slipped out of the shop and was hurrying down the street.
John Monday heaved a sigh of relief, whilst his master noted with surprise how white and shaken he appeared.
"What is wrong with you?" Mr. Harding asked. "What are you afraid of?"