"Was he your son?" asked John, in a sympathizing tone; "you must feel
quite troubled about him."

He looked askance at Mr. Mudge, enjoying that gentleman's growing
irritation.

"My son? No. Where----"

"Nephews perhaps?" suggested the imperturbable John, leisurely
continuing the manufacture of a whistle.

"No, I tell you, nothing of the kind. But I can't sit waiting here."

"Oh, I hope you'll excuse me," said John, apologetically. "I hope you
won't stop on my account. I didn't know you were in a hurry."

"Well, you know it now," said Mr. Mudge, crossly. "When and where did
you see the boy you have described? I am in pursuit of him."

"Has he run away?" inquired John in assumed surprise.

"Are you going to answer my question or not?" demanded Mr. Mudge,
angrily.

"Oh, I beg your pardon. I shouldn't have asked so many questions, only I
thought he was a nice-looking boy, and I felt interested in him."

"He's a young scamp," said Mr. Mudge, impetuously, "and it's my belief
that you're another. Now answer my question. When and where did you see
this boy?"