“I understand you all right, Griffin. And I understand why you are hanging around, trying to find out what I do and where I go. I can understand that well enough. You cheap sneak!”
Bob scarcely heard the epithet. It was the first part of the speech which brought enlightenment to his mind. At last he understood, as he might so easily have understood before if he had had time to think. Involuntarily he glanced over his shoulder at the Campton cottage.
“I see!” he exclaimed. “Oh, yes, yes! I see.... Humph!”
Covell had noticed the look and its direction. He raised his hand.
“By gad!” he cried, his voice rising almost to a shout. “I’ll—”
He sprang forward, his fist upraised. Bob, by far the cooler of the two, seized the lifted arm and held it.
“Hush!” he whispered. “Hush, you fool! There is some one coming.”
Some one was coming, was almost upon them. If they had not been so absorbed in their own affairs they would have heard the step minutes before and might have noticed that it had paused as if the person, whoever he or she might be, had stopped to listen. Now the steps came on again and the walker, a man, appeared on the sidewalk opposite. He was evidently looking in their direction.
“Hello!” he hailed, after a moment. “Who is that? What’s the matter? Anything?”
Bob answered. “No. Nothing is the matter,” he said.