Johnson was the boy who did the evening round.
"Just so.—Come inside, Farrant, will you?—Turn up the gas, Hartland. I want you to stay a few minutes longer."
"Yes, sir," replied Jim, who was getting his hat.
He thought his employer's manner a trifle strange, and rather wondered why Mr. Farrant, who was a frequent visitor, remained standing just inside the door. However, he turned the gas on full and waited.
"Sure no one has been here?" repeated the stationer.
"Quite sure, sir," answered Jim, who thought it was a very odd question.
"Then you haven't sold anything, or given change?"
"No," said Jim, who was beginning to feel a trifle uneasy, though he scarcely knew why.
"Hum," said his master; "that's satisfactory in one sense, at least. It leaves no room for mistakes." And going round the counter he opened the till.
One glance was sufficient, and in a loud voice he added, "Lock the door, Farrant, and bring me the key.—Hartland, come here."