"No, not exactly," returned Burnham with practised ease, "just looking round."
"Only lookin', eh?" Blinky's countenance underwent one of its erratic quakes as he examined Burnham with his habitual intentness.
The New Yorker caught the wink and lost breath. "Ah—yes—that's all," he assented uneasily. And as he spoke another wink dumbfounded him. "Why?" he asked, with a distinct loss of assurance. "Don't you believe it."
"Don't see no reason why I shouldn't," grunted Blinky. "Hope you'll like what you see. Good day."
"So long ... Mr. Lockwood," returned Burnham uncertainly.
Lockwood paused outside the door. "Come 'long, Roland."
"Yes, sir; right away; just a minute." Roland was lingering unwillingly, detained by Burnham's imperative hand. "What d'you want? I got to hurry."
"What was he winking at me for?" demanded Burnham heatedly. "Have you——?"
"Oh!" Roland laughed. "He wasn't winking. He can't help doing that. It's a twitchin' he's got in his eye. That's why they call him Blinky."
"Oh, that was it!" Burnham accepted the explanation with distinct relief, while Duncan, who had been an unregarded spectator, suddenly found cause to retire behind one of the show-cases on important business.