Rick shook his head. "Not yet. It's an odd trio. He's the dominant one in the group. The bald one looks like a servant, and the big one like a police dog on guard."
"Bodyguard?" Scotty asked quickly.
"Maybe. Or, perhaps, a chauffeur. It's hard to say."
"Do you suppose the white-haired man is just a familiar type and we've never seen him before?"
"No. It isn't that. I know I've seen him before, but I can't tell you where or when."
The boys finished the meal with a scoop of lemon sherbet and rose reluctantly. "We'll be back," Rick promised.
"That we will," Scotty echoed.
The old waiter bowed them to the door. As they were leaving, Rick paused. "Do you know that white-haired man at the table near us?"
"Why, sir, that's Mr. Merlin. Summer folks, you might say. He bought one of the old mansions. This is his second summer with us."
"Which one of the old mansions?" Scotty asked.