“Oh, then, it’s sort of secret business?”
“Zat is eet. You are a young man of penetration.”
“You’d say so if you saw him wading into any one he doesn’t like,” grinned Herc, setting down his empty glass and investigating its depths with a spoon.
The clerk was instantly at his elbow. The stranger looked up angrily at the store attendant.
“What are you doing listening here?” he demanded sharply.
“I wasn’t listening,” expostulated the aggrieved clerk, “I came to see if this gentleman wanted any more.”
“Bring us all three some, and then keep away,” grunted the black-mustached foreigner aggressively.
“Make mine vanilla this time,” ordered Herc.
“One nevaire knows who may be a spy,” explained the stranger, as the clerk brought the new order, and then busied himself, out of earshot, in the front of the store.
“Well, we’re not afraid of any spies,” returned Herc Taylor, giving the stranger a searching look.