But Aunt Phœbe did not go after lunch; she returned to the office with her nephew, and never left it till the two of them departed together at the close of business.
"It was bad luck," said Gray; "but we'll get him to-morrow safe enough."
On the morrow, however, fortune was equally unkind to the blackmailers, for this time Mrs. Early herself accompanied her husband to the office, and settled comfortably in the big armchair, as her aunt had done on the previous day. At lunch they went out together and returned together.
"We must bide our time," Gray said comfortingly to his co-conspirators. "We'll have him right enough presently."
When, however, the morrow brought Aunt Phœbe again, and lunch-time saw her return with George Early, Gray could scarcely contain himself for rage.
"It's a plant," he said fiercely; "a put-up job. He's doing it on purpose, so as we shan't get him alone."
And there seemed to be some truth in what he said, for whenever George Early left his office to enter the showrooms, or tour the warehouse, his aunt always accompanied him. Together they interviewed customers, inspected the barges at the wharf, pulled stoves about, and went over the numerous incidents of an ironmonger's day.
Once Gray plucked up courage, and boldly entered the upstairs office. Aunt Phœbe was seated at George's desk writing, while George himself lolled in an armchair, reading a paper.
The lady looked up inquiringly as Gray advanced.
"It's a little matter I'd like to see Mr. Early about," he said, with a cough.