uiry Bindle slipped out, assuring Mrs. Bindle that he
would see her some time during the afternoon as he was to be on duty
in Putney High Street, "to see that no one don't pinch 'Earty's
veges."

Ten minutes later Bindle stood in front of Mr. Hearty's new shop,
aided in his scrutiny by two women and three boys.

"There ain't no denying the fact," murmured Bindle to himself, "that
'Earty do do the thing in style. If only 'is 'eart wasn't wot it is,
an' if 'is face was wot it might be, 'e'd make a damn fine
brother-in-law."

At that moment Mr. Hearty appeared at the door of the shop, bowing out
a lady-customer, obviously someone of importance to judge by the
obsequious manner in which he rubbed his hands and bent his head.

"Cheer-o! 'Earty!" cried Bindle.

Mr. Hearty started and looked round. The three errand boys and the two
women looked round also and fixed their gaze on Bindle. Mr. Hearty
devoted himself more assiduously to his customer, pretending not to
have heard.

"I'll run in about six, 'Earty, and 'ave a look round," continued
Bindle. "I'm on dooty till then. I'll see they don't pinch your
stock," and he walked slowly down the High Street in the direction of
the bridge, followed by the grins and gazes of the errand boys.

Mr. Hearty's new shop was, without doubt, the best of the three. A
study in green paint and brass-work, it was capable of holding its own
with the best shops in the West End. In the window was a magnificent
array of fruits. Outside were the vegetables. Everything was ticketed
in plain figures, figures that were the envy and despair of other
Putney greengrocers.

It was Mr. Hearty's hour.

As Bindle promenaded the High Street, his manner was one of
expectancy. Twice he looked at his watch and, when walking in the
direction of Putney Hill, he would turn and cast backward glances
along the High Street. During his second perambulation he encountered
Mrs. Bindle hurrying in the direction of Mr. Hearty's new shop. He
accorded her a salute that would have warmed the heart of a Chief
Commissioner of the Police.

Meanwhile Mr. Hearty was gazing lovingly at the curved double
brass-rail that adorned his window, looking like a harvest festival
decoration. Mr. Hearty believed in appearances. He would buy
persimmons, li-chis, bread-fruit, and custard-apples, not because he
thought he could sell them; but because they gave tone to his shop.
Those who had not heard of persimmons and li-chis were