The boy listened breathlessly. The oncomer reached his door, passed it, stopped opposite the window, and then another face peered over the curtain.
This time it was a policeman.
For an instant their eyes met in mutual astonishment. Then the policeman came so close that his helmet rested against a pane of glass. He grinned affably, and cried:
"Here! I want to speak to you."
Intuitively grasping the essential fact that his best policy was one of ready acquiescence, Philip sprang toward the door and unlocked it. He stood on the step. The constable approached.
"I hope I didn't startle you," he began, "but I just looked in on the off chance——"
"I am very glad indeed, to see you," interrupted the boy. "I am leaving here to-morrow. Just now, while I was packing some of my belongings, a very nasty-looking man came and peeped in at me in the same way as you did."
He backed into the house. The policeman half followed him, his quick glance noting the open portmanteau and its array of old clothes.
"Just now?" he questioned. "Do you mean some time since?"
"No, no. Not half a minute—a few seconds ago."