The people on the lawn were too busy to notice the boys in the lane. Lanky nodded. “That’s so. And it seems to me, Tom, that that crowd are a different type from our three friends. These people belong here; but I don’t think the others do.”
The boys looked up the lane. The three men had entered at a gate that led to the rear of the big house.
“Let’s see what they’re doing,” said Tom.
Along the lane went the two boys, and turned in at the gate.
The men had disappeared. Lanky shook his head. “It’s queer, mighty queer. Of course those fellows may belong here. But why should they come all the way from that cove? And bring those hats and cloaks with them?” He scratched his ear, as he did when he was puzzled.
“Come along,” said Tom. “Nobody’ll throw us out.”
They crossed the lawn to the steps of the porch. A man came out from the front door, a man in livery, apparently the butler. He held himself very straight, he was an angular person, with a fishy eye.
“Yes?” he said; and though the word was a short one he managed to express in it a cold sense of disapproval.
“Er—” began Tom, “we would like to know if three men, wearing brown cloaks and big slouch hats, just came into this house.”
The butler shrugged his shoulders. “There are gentlemen and ladies wearing every kind of costume coming in and going out all the time,” he answered stiffly.