“If that isn’t what he’s looking for, I’ll eat it,” he said, snapping open the locket. He glanced at the pictures, barely able to contain his glee. “That’s him all right. You just might be walking out of here with fifteen dollars more than you thought. Problem is, if you want your money now, I got to go show the man the locket. Won’t be gone long. He says any time I get one that fits what he wants, don’t waste time getting to him. He says take a cab, and he’ll pay for it. You wait here for me to get back.”
“H-h-here?” asked Robin.
“Yes, here,” said Mr. Slyke, already dropping the locket into his jacket. Then he leered at Robin. “You see, you don’t have to worry about trusting me with the locket. I’m trusting you to stay here all by yourself. Now, you could just rob me blind, couldn’t you?”
There was something Robin did not like about this plan, especially when Mr. Slyke’s trust did not go so far as to leaving the store unlocked and open for business. He hung the “closed” sign on his window, and padlocked his front door, leaving Robin, in truth, a prisoner until he returned. As soon as Mr. Slyke had departed out the back, and Robin heard the sound of that door being locked as well, he began to realize what a ninnyhammer he was. Mr. Slyke could return and say he had lost the locket. Then what? That Mr. Slyke was not above lying, Robin was certain. But he could do nothing about it now, and just resign himself to waiting.
Examining everything in the store was interesting enough, but a person can only examine trays of tarnished teaspoons, stacks of mismatched dishes, torn old prints, and other similar items so many times without getting weary. Time dragged, and every time Robin consulted his watch, it seemed that only two or three minutes had passed. But at long last Mr. Slyke appeared from the back of the shop. He seemed nervous, but still gave Robin a smile displaying a full set of large, yellowed teeth. Taking down the “closed” sign, and unlocking the front door, he hurried behind the counter.
“Come here,” he said, his smile broadening. “I’ve got something for you.”
Mr. Slyke honest after all! Eagerly, Robin went to the counter and waited as Mr. Slyke opened the money drawer and rattled coins around in it. He was making so much noise, that Robin never heard the front door to the shop open. But suddenly, he saw something dangling from over his head before his eyes. It was the locket Mr. Slyke had taken with him.
“Waitin’ for somethin’, were you, boy?”
Robin whirled around, and found himself looking into the glaring, enraged eyes of Hawker Doak!
Chapter XIV
Peril Under the Pier
“Thought you were the clever one, didn’t you?” Hawker’s eyes narrowed to malevolent slits as he grabbed Robin by the collar. “Well, let me tell you somethin’, boy. You got to get up pretty early in the mornin’ to put one over on Hawker Doak. Runnin’ off like you done. Stealin’! I found out you were a thief when Kringle paid up his fifty cents. You never went back to get it from him like I ordered you, you chicken-livered little weasel. You got it from my hidin’ place under my bed, which you must o’ found out from spyin’. Good thing I weren’t stupid enough to tell him I already been paid.
“Knowin’ you stole money led me to checkin’ my drawer you and your ma was told to keep your noses out o’. And guess what I found out? You been thievin’ in there too. And I supposed as how you believed I was never goin’ to track you down. Ain’t that a fact? Come on, answer me. Ain’t it?”
As this was an impossible question for Robin to answer, he did not answer it. For that he was shaken so hard by the collar that his teeth rattled.
“Thanks for your help, Slyke,” Hawker said. “If it’s all right with you, I’ll be back to settle my account with you later. Right now I got to be goin’, because I got more business with this little thief.”
“Before you go,” said Mr. Slyke, “you wouldn’t like to check his pockets, would you? I had to leave him here alone while I went for you, if you get my meaning.”
“I get it, all right,” said Hawker. He started shoving his hand roughly into one pocket after another of Robin’s jacket. “So what’ve we got here?” he said, holding up Robin’s watch. “Where’d you steal this from, you bloody little thief?”
“I … I … I didn’t steal it,” Robin blurted out.
“So you didn’t steal it, eh?” Hawker said, sneering. “Then where did you get it?”
“It was my papa’s,” said Robin.
“Funny, I never seen it,” Hawker said. “Hidin’ it from me, eh? Well, you just gave it to me, boy. And here’s what I’m goin’ to do with it.” He threw the watch on the counter in front of Mr. Slyke. “What’ll you give me for it, Slyke?”
Mr. Slyke picked up the watch and examined it as if he had never seen it before. “Fifteen cents,” he said, without so much as the flicker of an eyelash.
“I’ll take it,” said Hawker, holding out his hand.
Mr. Slyke handed him some coins from his drawer, and Hawker jammed them into his pocket without even looking at them. “Now you just come with me, boy.”
Dragged by the collar, Robin stumbled with Hawker from the pawnshop into the street. As soon as they were out of the sight of Mr. Slyke behind his pawnshop window, Hawker slammed Robin against a brick wall.
“All right, boy,” Hawker said from between clenched teeth. “Now you’re goin’ to take me to where you been holed up all this time with the little brat. You
