"I can, sir," William cried. "This gentleman" (the word stuck in his
throat), "this gentleman came in here to examine lockets which I had no
reason to believe he would buy. I admit my fault, sir. He asked the price
of the most expensive, and I told him twenty dollars, merely for a jest,
sir." William hesitated.

"Well?" said Mr. Judson.

"After pricing every locket in the case, he seized the first one, handed
me twenty dollars, and now refuses to give it up, although he knows the
price is twenty-seven."

"Then?"

"Then I locked the door, sir. He sat down there, and hasn't moved since."

Mr. Judson looked again at Mr. Bass; this time with unmistakable
interest. The other customer began to laugh, and the crowd was pressing
in, and Mr. Judson turned and shut the door in their faces. All this time
Mr. Bass had not moved, not so much as to lift his head or shift one of
his great cowhide boots.

"Well, sir," demanded Mr. Judson, "what have you to say?"

"N-nothin'. G-guess I'll keep the locket. I've, paid for it--I've paid
for it."

"And you are aware, my friend," said Mr. Judson, "that my clerk has given
you the wrong price?"