Do you think you will take
this; or do you prefer to look at some others?"
"Oh, I think this will do, Mr. Track. I guess I'll take--"
Tom's Words were interrupted by a sudden action on the part of
the jeweler. Mr. Track ran from behind the showcase and hastened
toward the front door.
"Did you see him, Tom?" he cried. "I wonder which way he went?"
"Who?" asked the lad, following the shopkeeper.
"That man. He's been walking up and down in front of my place
for the last ten minutes--ever since you've been in here, in
fact, and I don't like his looks."
"What did he do?"
"Nothing much, except to stare in here as if he was sizing my
place up."
"Sizing it up?"
"Yes. Getting the lay of the land, so he or some confederate
could commit a robbery, maybe."
"A robbery? Do you think that man was a thief?"
"I don't know that he was, Tom, and yet a jeweler has to be
always on the watch, and that isn't a joke, either, Tom Swift.
Swindlers and thieves are always on the alert for a chance to rob
a jewelry store, and they work many games."
"I didn't notice any particular man looking in here," said Tom,
who still held the diamond brooch in his hand.
"Well I did," went on the jeweler. "I happened to glance out of
the window when you were looking at the pins, and I saw his eyes
staring in here in a suspicious manner.
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