“Nephews perhaps?” suggested the imperturbable John, leisurely continuing the manufacture of a whistle.
“No, I tell you, nothing of the kind. But I can't sit waiting here.”
“Oh, I hope you'll excuse me,” said John, apologetically. “I hope you won't stop on my account. I didn't know you were in a hurry.”
“Well, you know it now,” said Mr. Mudge, crossly. “When and where did you see the boy you have described? I am in pursuit of him.”
“Has he run away?” inquired John in assumed surprise.
“Are you going to answer my question or not?” demanded Mr. Mudge, angrily.
“Oh, I beg your pardon. I shouldn't have asked so many questions, only I thought he was a nice-looking boy, and I felt interested in him.”
“He's a young scamp,” said Mr. Mudge, impetuously, “and it's my belief that you're another. Now answer my question. When and where did you see this boy?”
This time Mr. Mudge's menacing look warned John that he had gone far enough. Accordingly he answered promptly, “He passed by our farm this morning.”
“How far back is that?”