“Certainly,” said the clerk, taking a pair of scissors from his pocket and cutting the silk in twain. “Here, Thompson, take this up to Kenton’s and see if they can match it; and, Jones, you take this piece and go over to Sherman’s.”
When Guy had seen the two clerks depart on their errand he drew a long breath of relief. A part of his work was accomplished, and it had been, too, just as he and Bob had planned it. The next thing was to keep Mr. Fellow’s employed in the front part of the store for a few minutes longer.
“Won’t you be kind enough to look over your stock again?” said Guy. “Mother is positive there is a remnant of that silk somewhere in the store.”
“I’ll do it, of course, to please her,” replied the clerk, “but I know I sha’n’t find it. Ah! Here’s Mr. Walker. Perhaps he knows something about it.”
At the mention of that name Guy started as if he had been shot. Bob’s father was the very man of all others he did not want to see just then, for he belonged in the back of the store, and Bob was there. Guy had a presentiment that something disagreeable was about to happen.
CHAPTER VII.
ADRIFT IN THE WORLD.
“WHY, GUY, what’s the matter with you?” asked Mr. Walker, giving the boy’s hand a cordial grip and shake. “Been sick?”
“No, sir,” stammered Guy.