“Lookin’ for me?” he inquired uneasily.
“You are the night watchman here?” asked the policeman, gazing steadily at him.
“That’s right. Anything the matter?”
“Nothing to be skittish about,” the officer said. “All we want is to see how good you are at answering questions.”
“Answerin’ questions!” the old fellow echoed timidly. “I ain’t done nothin’, sir.”
“You were in the building at eleven-thirty tonight?”
“Oh, yes, sir,” Old Herm replied. “I’m always here then. It’s my job.”
“What part of the building?”
“On the sixth floor, sir. I punch a clock there every night at eleven-thirty.”
“And you punched it tonight?”