"Was it yours?" asked the boy, surprised.
"No; it belonged to my employer."
"Who is he?"
"Professor Henderson, the ventriloquist."
"Where is he stopping?"
"Over at Pentland. He is sick at the hotel there."
"It's lucky for you I was out to-night. I ain't often out so late but I went to see a friend of mine, and stayed later than I meant to."
"Do you live near here?"
"I live about a quarter of a mile up this lane."
"Do you know what time it is?"