Part 35 (1/2)
”What is that alb.u.m I see in the window?” asked Cora. ”Some foreign postcard book?”
”Oh, that! No, that is not foreign. It is a sacred relic of some child saint.”
”For sale?” asked Cora, her voice a-tremble.
”Oh, no! No! No!” and the man shook his head gravely. ”I always keep relics--for curiosities.”
”Might I look at it?” pressed the motor girl, while Clip picked up something with pretended interest.
”Oh, yes, of course. But it is only filled with names, and I got it in a deal with another sale. The party who brought it here,” went on the curio dealer, ”the same who bought the table gave me the book in the bargain, with the understanding that I should not sell it but keep it on exhibition. They were very particular about me not selling it.”
Cora instantly guessed what this meant--a trick of Rob Roland. To show her the book! To make sure it was now useless, as the table had been made secure by him, but just to put it in that case to taunt her, when she would come, as of course he knew she would, and discover there was now absolutely no hope of ever recovering Wren's long-lost treasure.
She looked vaguely into the gla.s.s case. ”So you did get the table?”
she said indifferently.
”Yes, that, too,” said the man. But he made no attempt to display it.
”Can't I see it? You said you would make me one like it--”
”Oh, yes. I know I did. But my customer is very particular, and I have agreed not to show it.”
”Cora's heart sank. She must be shrewd now or lose what she had so long worked for.
”But you made the agreement with me first,” she argued. ”You promised to let me see the table, and said you would make me one to order, not like it, of course, but in the same line.”
The old man shook his head. He had evidently changed his mind.
A new thought came to Cora. ”Has your customer paid for the table?”
she asked.
”Oh, it will be paid for--it will be paid for,” and he seemed to gloat over the words, ”when it is delivered.”
Then it was not yet paid for--not actually bought. Clip saw instantly what Cora was striving for, but she pretended to be interested in the locked case in which rested the much-looked-for promise book.
”How do you know it will be paid for?” hazarded Cora. ”Young folks often change their minds. I suppose you have a good deposit?”
”Well, no. I wanted one, but the gentleman is gone for to cash a check--”
Cora laughed. The old man's face changed.
”If they wanted the table why did they not bring the money?” she said.
”I should think it would save you trouble to sell the table directly to me--if it suits me, of course. I am going away from here, and suppose the other customer never comes back?”
Still the old man did not speak. Cora saw her advantage and took out her purse.
”How much is it?” she asked boldly.
”They will pay me fifty dollars for that table,” he said dramatically.