“Hum,” he said finally. “If that had happened at night I’d say that you were seeing things.”
Hunky laughed.
“My friend had the same pleasure and also assisted me in reaching for the sky. It was an old lady who was on the other end of that gun.”
“Old lady?”
“Yes. She searched us mentally and told us to get out. We did. That wasn’t more than fifteen minutes ago. Here’s the strange thing about it to my mind. Old house, old lady, everything moss-covered and dusty—and a brand new up-to-date automatic in the old dame’s hand.”
The other man mused over this without comment. Finally he shot a question at us.
“Where are you two going?”
“Fishing in Cold Stream Pond. Come up here every year. My name is Doctor Wilbur Hunneker and my friend’s is Edward Triteham.”
“You wait here for me,” said the District Attorney, quickly making a decision. “I’m going to run down there. If some one is hanging around that house I want to know who it is and what they want. Will you wait here until I return?”
“Certainly,” Hunky replied. “Or I’ll go with you if you like.”