"Now see here, young feller," said he, "I've got your number, and I don't want no nonsense. I reckon you can understand numbers, if you can't understand anything else." He fixed his eyes on the row of old clocks at the rear. "Listen to this, my young friend: 3-1-0-1-3-1-0."
The smile left the young man's face. He seemed a trifle uneasy. His long fingers rested on the counter, and he leaned forward intently.
"No understand," said he.
"By crackey," said Toby, "this beats all. Where's Shiraz? We're in the right place, and we want Shiraz. Out with him!"
"Clocks and watches," said the young man, but this time somewhat nervously. "You buy?"
"Buy nothing!" cried Toby. "We want to see Shiraz the Rug-Merchant. Professor," said he, turning
round, "what's the words to bring out Shiraz the Rug-Merchant?"
"Shagli Jamshid Shahriman!" said the Third Vice-President, in a loud voice.
Instantly the manner of the young man changed. Crossing his arms upon his breast, he made a low salaam, and spoke with the utmost deference.
"I trust you will pardon," said he, "my seeming lack of courtesy. It is necessary to exercise a certain caution. There are wicked spirits, assuming from time to time the most unlikely forms, who seek to gain access to my great-great-grandfather. His life is continually in danger, for he possesses secrets which enable him constantly to interfere with their designs. By reason of this danger, he was obliged many years ago to retire from the rug business, and he has lived ever since in deep seclusion. It is your wish to see Shiraz the Persian?"