d at him aghast, and there was no doubt about his
determination. With a sinking heart the clerk realized that he should
have to make good to Mr. Judson the seven odd dollars of difference,
and then he lost his head. Slipping round the counter to the door of
the shop, he turned the key, thrust it in his pocket, and faced Mr. Bass
again--from behind the counter.

"You don't leave this shop," cried the clerk, "until you give me back
that locket."

Jethro Bass turned. A bench ran along the farther wall, and there he
planted himself without a word, while the clerk stared at him,--with
what feelings of uneasiness I shall not attempt to describe,--for the
customer was plainly determined to wait until hunger should drive one
of them forth. The minutes passed, and Wetherell began to hate him. Then
some one tried the door, peered in through the glass, perceived Jethro,
shook the knob, knocked violently, all to no purpose. Jethro seemed lost
in a reverie.

"This has gone far enough," said the clerk, trying to keep his voice
from shaking "it is beyond a joke. Give me back the locket." And he
tendered Jethro the money again.

"W-wahn't that the price you fixed?" asked Jethro, innocently.

Wetherell choked. The man outside shook the door again, and people on
the sidewalk stopped, and presently against the window panes a sea of
curious faces gazed in upon them. Mr. Bass's thoughts apparently were
fixed on Eternity--he looked neither at the people nor at Wetherell. And
then, the crowd parting as for one in authority, as in a bad dream
the clerk saw his employer, Mr. Judson, courteously pushing away the
customer at the door who would not be denied. Another moment, and Mr.
Judson had gained admittance with his private key, and stood on the
threshold staring at clerk and customer. Jethro gave no sign that the
situation had changed.

"William," said Mr. Judson, in a dangerously quiet voice, "perhaps you
can explain this extraordinary state of affairs."

"I can, sir," William cried. "This gentleman" (the word stuck in his
throat), "this gentleman came in here to examine lockets which I had
no reason to believe he would buy. I admit my fault, sir. He asked the
price of the most expensive, and I told him twenty dollars, merely for a
jest, sir." William hesitated.

"Well?" said Mr. Judson.

"After pricing every locket in the case, he seized the first one, handed
me twenty dollars, and now refuses to give it up, although he knows the