“Guess I won’t take one to-day,” Arthur said, while her back was still turned, and walked out.
When Maida put the rubbers back, she discovered that there were only four. She made up her mind that she had not counted right and thought no more of the incident.
Two days later, Arthur Duncan came in again. Maida had just been selling some pencils—pretty striped ones with a blue stone in the end. Three of them were left lying out on the counter. Arthur asked her to show him some penholders. Maida took three from the shelves back of her. He bought one of these. After he had gone, she discovered that there were only two pencils left on the counter.
“One of them must have rolled off,” Maida thought. But although she looked everywhere, she could not find it. The incident of the rubber occurred to her. She felt a little troubled but she resolved to put both circumstances out of her mind.
A day or two later, Arthur Duncan came in for the third time. It happened that Granny was out marketing.
Piled on the counter was a stack of blank-books—pretty books they were, with a child’s head in color on the cover. Arthur asked for letter-paper. Maida turned back to the shelf. With her hand on the sliding door, she stopped, half-stunned.
Reflected in the glass she saw Arthur Duncan stow one of the blank books away in his pocket.
Maida felt sick all over. She did not know what to do. She did not know what to say.
She fumbled with trembling hands among the things on the shelf. She dreaded to turn for fear her face would express what she had seen.
“Perhaps he’ll pay for it,” she thought; “I hope he will.”