“Want? It is past nine o’clock, and—”
“Go back. The office is closed.”
“Go back?” said Harry, troubled by the old man’s manner more than by the announcement; for it seemed natural that the office should be closed.
“Yes, young man; you can go back.”
“But—”
“I said, go back, sir—go back! The office is closed,” said the old man fiercely; and there was something menacing in the manner of his approach, as he backed his junior to the closed door, and unlocked it and pointed to the street.
“Mr Crampton—” began Harry.
The old man looked at him as if he could have struck him down, waved him aside, and closed and locked the door.
Harry stood for a few moments thinking. What could he do to gain an entrance there, and have a quiet search of the place? The only plan open seemed to be to wait until Crampton had gone away.
He had just come to this conclusion, after walking a short distance along the street and returning, when a fresh shock awaited him. Van Heldre’s front door was open, and Duncan Leslie came out, walking quickly towards him, but not noticing whom he approached till they were face to face.