“I’ll tell you,” he replied. “I saw you, a little time ago, climb over the railings and hide behind a gate-post. Then I saw a man come up in a deuce of a hurry and turn into the lane. I saw him stop and listen for a moment and then bustle off down the hill. Close on this fellow’s heels comes another man, also in a devil of a hurry. He turns into the lane, too, and suddenly he pulls up and creeps forward on tip-toe like a cat on hot bricks. He stops and listens, too; and then off he goes down the lane like a lamplighter. Then out you come from behind the gate-post, over the railings you climb, and then you creep up to the corner and listen, and then off you go down the hill like another lamplighter. Now, sir, what’s it all about?”
“I assume,” said I, repressing a strong tendency to giggle, “that you have some authority for making these inquiries?”
“I have, sir,” he replied. “I am a police officer on plain-clothes duty. I happened to be at the corner of Hornsey-lane when I saw you coming down the High-street walking in a queer sort of way as if you couldn’t see where you were going. So I drew back into the shadow and had a look at you. Then I saw you nip into the lane and climb over the railings, so I waited to see what was going to happen next. And then those other two came along. Well, now, I ask you again, sir, what’s going on? What is it all about?”
“The fact is,” I said a little sheepishly, “I thought the first man was following me, so I hid just to see what he was up to.”
“What about the second man?”
“I don’t know anything about him.”
“What do you know about the first man?”
“Nothing, except that he certainly was following me.”
“Why should he be following you?”
“I can’t imagine. He is a stranger to me, and so is the other man.”