“You’re not a detective, are you?” jeered the young man, in a boisterously insolent manner. “ ‘Little Bobbie’s Best at Home,’ ” he repeated. “Do you know that song? I’ll give you the rest of it some day.”

“Well, good night to you!” rapped out Wolf, brusquely and almost rudely. “I’ve had a long day. Good night to you; and don’t stay in the water so long the next time you bathe in Lenty Pond!”

He moved off at that, grimly entertained, in spite of his agitation, by the manner in which the young man’s eyes and mouth opened at the tone of this remark.

“He’s been with Gerda,” he thought, as he hurried on.