There came a sound from the depths of the building. Once more Anthony went into the passage and along its length; at the far end of the wareroom a door stood open; a porter was taking down the shutters. Anthony was about to call to him; but his lips closed upon the sound, and he turned and made his way quietly to the door by which he had come in. He looked out; he saw no one in the alley; and in a moment he was walking away, with all the unconcern he could call into his manner.
In trudging from the Half Moon to Magruder's, Anthony had worked himself up to a high pitch of exasperation; more than once he made the stout stick whistle as he slashed it through the air. He had formulated certain questions that must be answered. To the devil with all this tongue-wagging, and nothing coming of it.
But now he knew all he desired; and he had not asked a question. Also he knew what he had to face. It was men! And it was blows! Good! They were things he understood. When he came face to face with the men he'd know what to say; and when the time came for the blows—Anthony smiled here—rather grimly, to be sure; but it was the first smile of the morning.
At Water Street and Mulberry, Christopher Dent's apothecary shop was open, and Anthony went in. The little man was eating broiled fish in his laboratory and had a big book in the Latin tongue propped up before him. He shoved his spectacles up on his forehead and greeted his visitor.
"Sit down," said he. "And take some of the halibut. I'll get you a plate. It came fresh into the market this morning."
He began bustling about; but Anthony stopped him.
"I've had breakfast," said the young man. "An hour ago."
Christopher settled into his place at the table once more.
"You are an early riser," said he. "But, then, you always were. Many and many a time we'd cross the river before sun-up in the spring, when the dandelions were beginning."
Many of the tricks of boyhood persist in later life; and one of Anthony's had been, when he was perplexed, to go to Christopher Dent. The little apothecary had earned a great name among the youth of the old city district by his wisdom as to stone-bruises and warts, stubbed toes and lacerated shins; and because of this it was taken for granted that he also spoke with authority on other things. And now the old instinct became active in Anthony, and he told the apothecary of how he found Magruder. Christopher shoved his spectacles still farther up on his head, closed the book, and forgot about the fish.