"'Spect them's them.

Follow the road there till you come to Widow Gardiner's hog-lot, then turn to your left, and it's about a quarter of a mile on.

The only house up that way-- you can't miss it." The agent stood squinting at them, with friendly inquiry radiating from his parchment-like countenance, and Mr.Birnes took an opportunity to ask some other questions.
"By the way, what sort of old man is this Mr.Kellner?
What does he do?
Is he wealthy ?" A pleasant grin overspread his informant's face; one finger was raised to his head and twirled significantly.
"'Spect he's crazy," he went on to explain.

"Don't do nothing, so far as nobody knows--lives like a hermit, stays in the house all the time, and has long whiskers.

Don't know whether he's rich or not, but 'spect he ain't becuz no man with money'd live like he does." He thrust a long forefinger into Mr.Birnes' face.