“Then you may be sure he’ll come,” said Wallop, “It was all very well when we weren’t supposed to know,” said Harris, “but now it’s all out he doesn’t expect us to treat him like an ordinary gentleman.”
“It’s certainly not anything to be proud of,” remarked Hawkesbury, pleasantly; “but—”
At that moment the door opened and Smith entered—solemn as ever, and to all appearances perfectly composed and unconscious of the curiosity his appearance occasioned.
But I who watched him narrowly could detect a quick, doubtful glance round as he entered and took his usual place.
He never looked at me. On the contrary, he appeared to guess where I was, and purposely avoided turning in that direction.
The fellows were evidently perplexed, and not quite pleased.
“You’ve won your bet,” said Harris across the screen to Doubleday.
“Never mind, you’ve got your man,” replied Doubleday.
“He seems awfully pleased with himself,” said Crow.
“I wish my governor was a yellow-jacket, so I do,” growled Wallop, “then I could hold up my head like a gentleman. But he’s only a merchant!”