“I sure did! But I’m glad to get back! New England is no paradise in winter. Get me something to eat, there’s a bright Penny.”
“All right,” and Wise rang a bell. “Take your time, Ziz, but have a little pity on a mere man, consumed with curiosity.”
“I will. Coggs’ Hollow is exactly what its name sounds like. A tiny, primitive village, just the same now as it was a quarter of a century ago, when Robert Gleason lived there, with his uncle.”
“You found people who knew him, then?”
“I did.”
“Could they throw any light on the murder—or its cause?”
“Not light—but a sort of a glimmer of a glow of a hint of dawn.”
“Good! That’s enough. You succeeded, then!”
“Oh, yes; and, Penny Wise, whom do you suppose I saw up there, also nosing about?”
“Who?”