"My little girl," cried the clerk in agony. He turned to Martin Wall, hesitating. His sallow face was white now, his lips trembled. Doubtfully he gazed into the frank open countenance of Martin Wall. And then—
"I leave you in charge," he shouted, and fled past Mr. Wall to the street.
For a moment Martin Wall stood, frozen to the spot. His eyes were unbelieving; his little Cupid's bow mouth was wide open.
"Here—come back—" he shouted, when he could find his voice.
No one heeded. No one heard. Outside in the street a crowd had gathered. Martin Wall wet his dry lips with his tongue. An unaccountable shudder swept his huge frame.
"My God—" he cried in a voice of terror, "I'm alone!"
For the first time he dared to move. His elbow bumped a hundred thousand dollars' worth of unset diamonds. Frightened, he drew back. He collided with a show-case rich in emeralds, rubies and aquamarines. He put out a plump
