“Tell me what you mean!” he exclaimed. “Wait a moment, Mr. Vickery, if you please, and hear what he means.”
“Oh, nothing of any consequence, only that I saw you make a sale the other day and put the money in your pocket, and I’ve seen no return of it in your accounts.”
Mr. Vickery’s look was piercing now; Tom stood bewildered for a moment, and then thrust his finger into his vest-pocket with a sharp exclamation such as no one in the store had ever heard him use before.
“I sold a drygoods-box the other day,” he said, “and upon my word and honor I have never thought of it from that moment to this! You know how we had been worked that day, Fenimore, and I had two hours to come after that though it was past time to close then. There is the money, and there it might have been till next year, if you had not reminded me of it, but I think it is the first time my memory has defrauded the house of even such a sum as fifty cents.”
“Possibly,” said Hal, with the sneer still on his face; “but it may be well to look out for it in the future;” and he turned to his books without another word.
“Let it pass, Haggarty,” said the other partner gravely; “it was a trifle to be sure, but the world is built on trifles, and that is one of the first things to be remembered in business.”
Tom turned away with tight-shut lips and a white face. How many had overheard the conversation? There were plenty within reach of it, at any rate, and he might be called a thief all through the store before night! And even if he escaped that, he did not believe Mr. Vickery would ever feel sure of him again. Hal knew better, but he had come very little in the second partner’s way.