eard it described so
often, and I b'lieve I know them diamonds. I seen 'em in the
lookin'-glass, settin' in t'other room, and seen you look all round like
a thief afore you opened 'em. So, fork over, and mebby you can give me
back May Jane's pin you stole at the party the night Mr. Arthur came
home. Fork over, I say!'

Too much astonished at first to speak, Harold stood staring at the man
who had attacked him so brutally, while his hand closed tightly over the
diamonds in his pocket, as if fearing they might be wrenched from him by
force.

'Will you fork over, or shall I call the perlice?' Peterkin asked.

'Call the police as soon as you like,' Harold replied, 'but I shall not
give you the diamonds.'

'Then you own that you've got 'em! That's half the battle!' Peterkin
said, coming up close to him, and looking at him with a meaning smile
more detestable than any menace could have been. 'I know you've got 'em,
and I can run you if I try, and then what will your doxie think of you!
Will she refuse my Bill for a thief, and treat me as if I was dirt?'

'What do you mean, sir?' Harold demanded, feeling intuitively that by
his _doxie_ Jerrie was meant, and feeling a great horror, too, lest by
some means Jerrie's name should be mixed up with the affair before she
had a chance to explain.

The reference to Billy was a puzzle, but Peterkin did not leave him in
doubt.

'I mean that you think yourself very fine, and always have, and that are
girl of the carpet-bag thinks herself fine, too, and refused my Bill for
you, who hain't a cent in the world. I seen it in her face when I
twitted her on it, and she riz up agin me like a catamount. But I'll be
even with you both yit. I've got you in my power, young man, but--' and
here he came a step or two nearer to Harold, and dropping his voice to a
whisper said: 'I sha'n't do nothin', nor say nothin' till you've gin
your evidence, and if you hold your tongue I will. You tickle me, and
I'll tickle you! see!'

Harold was too indignant to reply, and feeling that he was degrading
himself every moment he spent in the presence of that man, he left the
room without a word, and went to his own apartment, but not to sleep,
for never had he spent so wretched a night as that which followed his
interview with Peterkin. Of what the man could do to him, he had no
fear. His anxiety was all for Jerrie. Where did she find the diamonds,
and for whom did she keep silence so long? and what would be