Acting almost without conscious volition, he crossed the street, and the next instant boldly flung open the door of "H. Nagasaki's" place and passed within.
[CHAPTER XXV.]
A BOX OF MATCHES.
The change from the bright sunlight without to the dim and dusty interior of the store was, at first, almost blinding to Herc. Before entering he had taken the precaution to pull the front of his soft hat down over his eyes, for, as will be recalled, he was wearing civilian clothing. This did not help to make things clearer to his vision in the gloom.
His first impression was of a large apartment, bare of floor and wall, with a set of dusty show cases placed at one side behind a rickety counter. It did not look like a store where much business of the kind it ostensibly catered to was transacted.
All this confirmed Herc's growing suspicions that the place was conducted as a blind. That it was nothing more than a haunt for Japanese spies and those allied with them in their schemes against Uncle Sam.
A soft voice, a voice with a purring inflection as silky as that of a cream-fed cat, broke on his ears.
"What will the gentleman please to 'ave?"