Copper again! copper box, coppersmith—the whole thing was becoming more mysterious than ever! Here were these men, who had been talking about a copper box the night before, now entering the shop of a man who worked in copper. Why? I wanted to know. And instead of going off on my own proper business to the artist’s colourman’s shop, I crossed the street, walked on a little, turned, and kept an eye on the door into which White Whiskers and his companion had vanished.
They were in there about half-an-hour. I stuck to my post, though I knew I was running the risk of losing my train. At last they came out. They came nodding and wagging their heads as if whatever had transpired within had settled the question—White Whiskers, in particular, looked uncommonly satisfied with himself. They went away, round the corner into the Haymarket—and thereupon, with a desperate resolution generated by sheer curiosity, I boldly entered the coppersmith’s establishment. Its proprietor, an uncomfortably canny-looking sort of person, elderly and spectacled, stood behind the counter; his keen eyes fell upon me at once with such shrewd inquiry that I felt decidedly embarrassed, and knew myself to be growing red about cheeks and ears.
“Oh, ah, er,” I began lamely. “I—that is—have you any old articles in copper, you know—curiosities and that sort of thing—to sell?”
It seemed to me that he took an unconscionable time in replying. When he did reply, it was with a curt monosyllable.
“No!”
“The fact is I—sometimes—go in for collecting such things,” I said. “I——”
He suddenly bent forward across his counter, and gave me a keen, searching look.
“What are you after, young man?” he asked severely. “I saw you—watching those gentlemen.”
IV
Midnight Warning
I GLANCED round, involuntarily, at the window of the man’s shop, and saw that, there being little in it, he would certainly have been able, while talking to White Whiskers and his companion, to command a view of the other side of the street, and so had doubtless seen me hanging about. But his curt manner helped to disperse my embarrassment and awkwardness, and I boldly took another line. After all, I had—as far as I knew—as good a right to ask questions as White Whiskers had.