Mr. Dobb, lifting a package from beneath his counter, opened the wrapping and displayed a mass of personal ornament.
“You compare that with the list and you’ll find there ain’t a thing missing,” he said, tying up the parcel again and returning it beneath the counter.
“Well, let’s see the shandyleary,” grunted Mr. Bindley, with ill grace, “and maybe I’ll offer you a price for it.”
“Spoke like a sensible man!” declared Mr. Dobb. “It’s in three parts. I’ll carry ’em up.”
Elatedly he tripped down into his cellar. He was just about to pick up the nearest portion of the chandelier, when a sudden anguish assailed him. With an anxious cry he ran back up the stairway again. The shop was empty. Mr. Dobb darted behind his counter. The parcel was gone. He raced out into the roadway, and was rewarded with a view of Mr. Bindley, the parcel tight-clutched beneath his arm, rapidly retiring down the perspective.
Mr. Dobb opened his mouth to shout, then blinked and became thoughtful. And, at long last, he made a helpless, fluttering gesture with his hands and retired forlornly into his shop.
That same evening Mr. Clark, in a state of considerable jubilation, came to see him.
“I’ve ’ad a bit of luck to-day!” babbled the stout ferryman. “I met ’er face to face, and I’m cured! Why, close to, she’s nearly ’alf as old as I am! Bindley was with ’er, and that’s what I come to see you about, to see if you can hexplain the mystery. He saw me ’anging about the corner, as usual, and ’e asked me if I’d do a little job for ’im, seeing as ’e reckoned to ’ave a busy time before the hopening of the theayter.”
“Well?” sourly prompted Mr. Dobb.
“Well, first of all, ’e give me a bob, and then ’e give me a letter to deliver by ’and, marked ‘Hurgent,’ to the heditor of the ‘Shore’aven Gazette.’”