When the three men left the train there, Mr.Birnes walked over and spoke to the agent, a thin, cadaverous, tobacco-chewing specimen of his species.
"We are looking for an old gentleman who lives out here somewhere," he explained.

"He probably lives alone, and we've been told that he has a little cottage somewhere over this way." He waved his hand vaguely to the right, in accordance with the directions of Red Haney.

The station agent scratched his stubbly chin, and spat with great accuracy through a knot-hole ten feet away.
"'Spect you mean old man Kellner," he replied obligingly.

"He lives by hisself part of the time; then again sometimes his grand-darter lives with him." Granddaughter! Mr.Birnes almost jumped.
"A granddaughter, yes," he said with a forced calm.

"Rather a pretty girl, twenty-two or three years old?
Sometimes she dresses in blue ?" "Yes," the agent agreed.