the jeweller was terrible in its wrath. His small eyes snapped with
fury, and his huge hands opened and shut convulsively.

"What, agin!" he said in a low growl. "After all I told you!"

Mr. Higgs backed slowly as he advanced.

"No noise," said Mr. Burge in a dreadful whisper. "One scream and I'll--
What were you going to do with that poker?"

He took a stealthy step forward.

"I--I," began the jeweller. His voice failed him. "Burglars," he
mouthed, "downstairs."

"What?" said the other, pausing.

Mr. Higgs threw truth to the winds. "I heard them in the shop," he said,
recovering, "that's why I took up the poker. Can't you hear them?"

Mr. Burge listened for the fraction of a second. "Nonsense," he said
huskily.

"I heard them talking," said the other recklessly. "Let's go down and
call the police."

"Call 'em from the winder," said Brother Burge, backing with some haste,
"they might 'ave pistols or something, and they're ugly customers when
they're disturbed."