“Sure,” said Jan, and called aloud for them.  And again Hen brought in the ginger ale in two long glasses, but also with two empty bottles to show Jan by the labels that it was the real imported and no phony stuff; and Jan said, “I know!  I know!” as he paid and waved Hen away.

A door led from this back room into the lower back hall of the house, and in the shadow of the back hall Jan thought for an instant that he saw the landlady’s figure; but he wasn’t sure.  Two minutes—­or it may have been five minutes—­later, a boy whom Jan had noticed round the house came into the room by way of that same door and said to the girl: 

“Mrs. Goles wants to see you a minute.”

“Tell her I got no minute to spare—­not now.”

The boy went out and quickly came back.

“Mrs. Goles says for you to come out and see her or she’ll have the policeman in off the beat.  He’s at the corner now.”

The girl went out.

“Who’s Mrs. Goles?” asked Jan of the boy.

“Why, she’s the landlady.”

“Oh!” said Jan.  So that was her husband, the handsome proprietor with the evil eyes.  “Poor woman!” muttered Jan, and absent-mindedly drank his ginger ale.

The boy was still there.  “Where is Mrs. Goles now?” asked Jan.

The boy jerked his head.  “Out there on the back stairs.”

Jan stood up.  “Here!” He handed the boy a quarter.  “A wonder a boy like you hangs out round here!”

“I run Mrs. Goles’s errands.  I been runnin’ ’em since I was a kid.  My mother used to work for her mother.  She was a lady.”

Jan was heading for the side door, the door which led into the alley.

“Will I tell her you’re comin’ back, mister?”

“Tell who?”

“Why, that girl you was with.”

“Tell her nothing.  Nor”—­Jan nodded his head toward the pool-room—­“him.  Better go home.  This is no place for a good boy like you.”

Jan went out by the alley; and from there, after peeking to see that nobody was looking out of the pool-room windows, he stepped quickly up the front steps of the house.

Cautiously he unlocked the door.  He could hear voices, but not distinctly.  Quietly he tiptoed toward the head of the back stairs.  It was Mrs. Goles who was talking.

“Didn’t I warn you again and again never to bother him?” Jan heard.

“An’ why not?”

“Why?  He’s a lodger—­that’s why.”

“Is that why?  Say, but ain’t you takin’ an awful sudden interest in yer lodgers though!  Are yuh sure you don’t want him for yerself?  Are yuh sure he ain’t something more than a lodger?”

“You—­you—­”