“Oh, just following up a hunch of mine.”
“What sort of hunch?”
“Tell you about it later. Did you see Jack?”
“No and he isn’t home either because I went over to call him.”
Paul leaned against the fence and mused. The wind pushed a piece of paper against his leg. Bending down to pull it away, he suddenly remembered something. “Come on,” he said to his friend.
“Where to?” asked Ken.
“To that house which Jack showed us this morning.”
“What for? It is kind of late, too. Almost ten o’clock.”
“We will be back shortly. Come on.”