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Peelin' off the cutaway, he tosses it careless on a table. "Look out for splinters!" says he as he heaves a chair into the showcase among the fake jew'lry, and with another proceeds to make vicious swipes at whatever's left on the shelves. As a tearoom wrecker he was some artist, believe me! Not a blessed thing that could be smashed did he miss, and what he couldn't break he bent or dented.
He led me straight across the big assembly room which was being trimmed for the ball. From the top of a stepladder, Skeet Thornhill yelled to us, "Where you two going? Come back here, and get on the job." She had a dozen noisy assistants. I waved at her from the further door as we ducked. Strange that honest, sound little thing should be own sister to the doll-faced vamp out there in the showcase.
It's true she's deaf, but she has been in the family, so to speak, a long while, and she knows the shop and the goods pretty well. She's quick if she is old, so I got her down about nine o'clock and we started in." "Then exactly how it happened I don't know. I was puttering around the work table where Darcy used to do his jewel setting and his repair work, and Sallie was over near the showcase.
"I'll go with you," said Mulligan, and he shoved himself to an erect posture by forcing his elbows against the showcase on which he had been leaning in a manner to give himself as much rest as possible without sitting down it was a way he had, acquired from long patrolling of city streets. "You you'll go with me?" faltered Darcy. "Yes, to call the cook.
A moment later the photographer on the fifth floor would descend to hang at the door his showcase, always the same, in which was to be seen the old gentleman in a white tie surrounded by his daughters in various groups; he went upstairs again in his turn, and the calm which succeeded immediately upon this little morning uproar left one to imagine that the "father" and his young ladies had re-entered the case of photographs, where they remained smiling and motionless until evening.
"I'll sell it to ye, Milt," the storekeeper said gently, with his hand on the slide of the cigar and tobacco showcase. "That's what I mean," rejoined Milt boldly, fishing in his pocket for the required nickel.
If anything could be funny in that place of death, this fact might be. And it was a fact. Of the many clocks in the store not one was ticking, and all pointed to different hours. The big regulator indicated 10:22; a chronometer in a showcase was five hours and some minutes ahead of that. The clock over Darcy's work table noted the hour of 7:56.
Certainly Wango had upset it very much. "He must have come in the store by the back way, when I was out hanging up the clothes," said the candy-shop lady. "He hid under the counter until he saw me open the showcase for you, Bunny. Then he put in his paw, and grabbed the lollypops." "Yes, that's what he did I saw him," said Sue, who was now taking the paper off her candy.
Hardman has in his showcase in the face, I mean." "In the face of the showcase?" giggled Amy. "Or the face of the cheese?" asked Janice demurely. "Now, say, you girls go too far," complained Gummy, yet good-naturedly. "I mean Strout's face. It looks like the cheese, for he's all speckled. And the cheese is called Rockyford and tastes funnier than it looks."
"Sure," said Finch. "There'll be a dandy time." "Gimme five tickets," said the cop, throwing a five-dollar bill on the showcase. "Why," said Finch, "ain't you going it a little too " "Go to h !" said the cop. "You got 'em to sell, ain't you? Somebody's got to buy 'em. Wish I could go along." I was glad to See Finch so well thought of in his neighborhood.
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