"It's all a fake," he declared, "and you are out your two hundred. We may as well ring off and go home."
He had scarcely spoken when an old man with a fishing basket, a pole and a lantern came hobbling onto the pier.
"At last!" muttered Old King Brady. "Here is a party who, if he belongs in the neighborhood, may know something."
He stepped out into view.
"Good-evening, uncle!" he called.
"Evening yourself," growled the old man. "If you mean to hold me up you won't get nothin', I tell yer that straight. I hain't even begun to fish."
"I'm no hold-up man. On the contrary, I'm a detective."
"What say? I'm a bit deef. I can't hear."
"What building is this?"
"That? Why, that is Niebuhr's old moulding mill. It burned down five years ago."