“Did you inquire about Sir Brooke, Toby?”
“Yes, sir, I did,” answered the lad, looking white over a load of china and glass ware on a tray.
“No news, I dare say.”
“Oh, yes, sir, as a fact there was, sir.”
“Eh? Who told you?”
“It was the station-master at New Aidenn, sir. He was very angry, sir, when I told him that you didn’t believe he had seen Sir Brooke. He said to tell you, sir, that he was certain-sure. Those were the words I was to tell you, sir.”
“Did he take a ticket from him?”
“He can’t exactly remember, sir, but he’s sure he saw him somewhere in the crowd. He must have taken his ticket, sir.”
“Bosh!” exclaimed Pendleton. “Why, I have a letter from Sir—”
Toby continued in his unruffled style. “And he said he remembered Sir Brooke very well from other times he was here, sir. A thinnish, middle-sized gentleman, with a bang of mouse-coloured hair over his eye, and double glasses, and his silk bow tie tilted toward his ear. He remembered him quite well, you see, sir.”