“At what time did you ’phone?” he asked us.
“At about half-past six,” Brent said.
“From where?”
“From the railroad station at Greenvale.”
That seemed to be a poser to him; he just drummed on the table and looked at all of us.
“Which one of you ’phoned?” he asked.
“Hervey ’phoned,” Brent said.
“Eh huh, I thought so,” Mr. Arnoldson said, with a kind of a funny smile. “Who did you talk to, Willetts?”
“A scout named Wilkins,” Hervey said.
“Ask him his name?”