Above it all, a certain man, his face convulsed with anger, shouted at the crowd that there was no danger--no fire. Hawkins shrank as his eyes fell upon this personage. “Lord! That's one of the owners!” he said. “I'm going!” We, too, made for the door, and had almost attained it when a heavy hand fell upon the shoulder of Hawkins. “You're the man I'm looking for!” said the hard, angry tones of the proprietor. “You come back with me! D'ye know what you've done? Hey? D'ye know that you've ruined that elevator shaft? D'ye know that a thousand-pound casting dropped on our roof and smashed it and wrecked two offices? Oh, you won't slip out like that.” He tightened his grip on Hawkins' shoulder. “You've got a little settling to do with me, Mr. Hawkins. And I want that man who was with you, too, for----” That meant me! A sudden swirl of steam enveloped my person. When it had lifted, I was invisible. For my only course had seemed to fold my tents like the Arabs and as silently steal away; only I am certain that no Arab ever did it with greater expedition and less ostentation than I used on that particular occasion. CHAPTER XII. I had intended it for a peaceful, solitary walk up-town after business on that beautiful Saturday afternoon; and had in fact accomplished the better part of it. I was inhaling huge quantities of the balmy air and reveling in the exhilaration of the exercise. But passing the picture store, I experienced a queer sensation--perhaps “that feeling of impending evil” we read about in the patent medicine advertisements. It may have been because I recalled that in that very shop Hawkins had demonstrated the virtues of his infallible Lightning Canvas-Stretcher, and thereby ruined somebody's priceless and unpurchasable Corot. At any rate my eyes were drawn to the place as I passed; and like a cuckoo-bird emerging from the clock, out popped Hawkins. “Ah, Griggs,” he exclaimed. “Out for a walk?” “What were you doing in there?” “Going to walk home?” “Settling for that painting, eh?” “Because if you are, I'll go with you,” pursued Hawkins, falling into step beside me and ignoring my remarks. I told Hawkins that I should be tickled to death to have his company, which was a lie and intended for biting sarcasm; but Hawkins took it in good faith and was pleased. “I tell you, Griggs,” he informed me, “there's nothing like this early summer air to fill a man's lungs.” “Unless it's cash to fill his pockets.” “Eh? Cash?” said the inventor. “That reminds me. I must spend some this afternoon.” “Indeed! Going to settle another damage suit?” “I intend to order coal,” replied Hawkins frigidly. He seemed disinclined to address me further; and I had no particular yearning to hear his voice. We walked on in silence until within a few blocks of home. Then Hawkins paused at one of the cross-streets. “The coal-yard is down this way, Griggs,” he said. “Come along. It won't take more than five or ten minutes.”