“What kind of people live there?” I inquired, whereupon he eyed me rather strangely, I thought, and asked—
“You’re not a friend of theirs, I suppose?”
“Not at all. I don’t know them.”
“Well, I’ll tell you in confidence. Mind, however, you don’t let it out to a single soul—but the fact is that the house is under the observation of the police, and has been for some time. Sergeant Bullen, the detective, is on duty up there at the end of the road,” and he jerked his thumb in that direction. “He said good-night to me only a minute ago.”
“The place is being watched, then?” I gasped in surprise.
“Yes. They’ve been keeping it under observation night and day for a week or more. Bullen told me one day that they expect to make an arrest which will cause a great sensation.”
“For whom are they lying in wait?”
“Oh, that I’m sure I can’t tell you! The ’tecs, although I know ’em well, don’t talk very much, you know.” And then, after some further questions to which I received entirely unsatisfactory answers, we parted.