“At four o’clock, Joseph.”
Billy looked at Mr. Prescott wonderingly.
“Why four o’clock, questioner? Because, when I’m going to see a place, I like to see it at its best. I like to see this place in the afternoon, when the shadows have grown long.
“No; no more questions.”
At a quarter past four, Joseph stopped the car in front of a beautiful wrought iron gate.
“That’s a beauty!” exclaimed Dr. Crandon. “It reminds me of some of the old mediæval work that I saw in Italy. What’s this, anyway?”
Mr. Prescott shook his head.
“All right, Prescott,” said Dr. Crandon, “I’ll wait.”
“As for that gate,” said Mr. Prescott, “I may as well admit that I am a bit proud of it. The men of my year put it there.