dingy upper room which was the young man's destination, Mr Osbett was entertaining the stout and agitated man. That is to say, he was talking to him. The agitated man did not look very entertained.
'It's no good cursing me, Nancock,' Osbett was saying, in his flustered old-maidish way. 'If you'd been on time last night——'
'I was on time!' yelped the perspiring Mr Nancock. 'It was that young idiot's fault for handing the package over without the password-—and to Teal, of all people. I tell you, I've been through hell! Waiting for something to happen every minute—waiting, waiting.... It isn't even safe for me to be here now——'
'That's true,' said Osbett, with one of his curiously abrupt transformations to deadly coldness. 'Who told you to come here ?'
'I came here because I want my money!' bawled the other hysterically. 'What do you think I've done your dirty work for ? Do you think I'd have taken a risk like this if I didn't need the money ? Is it my fault if your fool of an assistant gives the money to the wrong man? I don't care a damn for your pennydreadful precautions, and all this nonsense about signs and countersigns and keeping out of sight. What good has that done this time ? I tell you, if I think you're trying to cheat me——'
'Cheat you ?' repeated the chemist softly. The idea seemed to interest him. 'Now, I wonder why you should be the first to think of that ?'
There was a quality of menace in his voice which the stout man did not seem to hear. His mouth opened for a fresh outburst; but the outburst never came. The first word was on his lips when the door opened and the shifty-eyed youth burst in without the formality of a knock.
'It's Teal's—packet!' he panted out. 'A man just came in and said he wanted to change it! He said—Teal gave it to him. It hasn't been opened!'
Nancock jumped up like a startled pig, with his mouth still open where the interruption had caught it. An inarticulate yelp was the only sound that came out of it.
Osbett got up more slowly.
'What sort of man ?' he snapped, and his voice was hard and suspicious.
The youth wagged his hands vaguely.
'A silly-ass sort of fellow—Burlington Bertie kind of chap—I didn't notice him particularly—'
'Well, go back and notice him now!' Mr Osbett was flapping ditherily again. 'Keep him talking. Make some excuse, but keep him there till I can have a look at him.'
The assistant darted out again and went pelting down the stairs—so precipitately that he never noticed the shadow that faded beyond the doorway of the stockroom on the opposite side of the landing.
Osbett had seized the packet of tea and was feeling it eagerly. The suspicious look was still in his eyes, but bis hands were shaking with excitement.
'It feels like it!' he muttered. 'There's something funny about this——'
'Funny!' squeaked Nancock shrilly. 'It's my money, isn't it ? Give it to me and let me get out of here!'
'It will be lucky for you if it is your money,' Osbett said thinly. 'Better let me make sure.' He ripped open the package. There was no tea in it—only crumpled pieces of thin white paper. 'Yes, this is it. But why ... My God!'
The oath crawled through his lips in a tremulous whisper. He looked as if he had opened the package and found a snake in his hands. Nancock, staring at him, saw that his face had turned into a blank grey mask in which the eyes bulged like marbles.
Osbett spread out the piece of
