“A man drove up here in a gig about half an hour ago. I want to see him.”
“What about?”
“Business.”
“What kind of business?” persisted the man.
“I’ll tell him. If you will give me his address, I will be very much obliged to you.”
The man shook his head strenuously. He regarded Ben as though he considered him an enemy and a spy.
“That won’t wash,” he said, “and you had better get out of here. People who have any business with the man you are talking about, know just where to find him, without coming snooking around here the way you do.”
Ben backed away. The man looked positively menacing now as he glared at his visitor. Ben was shrewd enough that this place was one operated under tactics of caution and evasiveness.
“Hello!” he exclaimed suddenly, and came to a staring standstill.
“Hello, what?” demanded the man suspiciously, edging between Ben and the door.