DETECTIVE. Is the student any relation to the owner of the house?
ANDERSON. No, I don't think so.—Say, you haven't got anything to do with the police, have you?
DETECTIVE. How did it happen that the inn didn't catch fire?
ANDERSON. They slung a tarpaulin over it and turned on the hose.
DETECTIVE. Queer that the apple-trees were not destroyed by the heat.
ANDERSON. They had just budded, and it had been raining during the day, but the heat made the buds go into bloom in the middle of the night—a little too early, I guess, for there is frost coming, and then the gardener will catch it.
DETECTIVE. What kind of fellow is the gardener?
ANDERSON. His name is Gustafson——
DETECTIVE. Yes, but what sort of a man is he?
ANDERSON. See here: I am seventy-five—and for that reason I don't know anything bad about Gustafson; and if I knew I wouldn't be telling it! [Pause.