“You think a spy is gonna go around making bird calls to get some stranger’s attention?”
“Could be. Maybe you’ve been watching me, think you can get me to do your dirty work. I don’t know what goes through your head.”
Well. This isn’t working out. Maybe you can act like you’ve lost it.
“Look, you don’t get it. The Rider’s spirit told me to follow the compass. Look at it! You’re going the wrong way, I’ve got to get back.”
You shove the compass in his face and he just stares.
“I’m pretty sure that ain’t north. What’s this about Rider, now?”
“The Rider spoke to me! He can guide me home!”
Crook seems to be thinking hard about this.
“I’m telling you, he really asked me to!”
Hmm? That’s Strings’ voice. Crook shoves you back in the laundry cart suddenly; apparently he still hasn’t decided what to do with you.
“I really don’t appreciate being toyed with, Strings. If Rider’s back, why are you the only one he’s talked to?”
Have you heard that voice? You poke your head out slightly to try and listen better. Unfortunately, the conversation’s gotten too far away for you to hear more, but Crook’s staring at you with wide eyes.
“Something’s going on here, isn’t it,” he says. “All right, tell you what. Prove to me you talked to Rider, or his ghost or whatever, and I’ll pretend this whole mess never happened. You can just go on your way, and nobody else hears a word of it.”
Well, that’s a tough one. What can you offer as proof?
He told me about a secret passage to his bedroom where he keeps his smutty romance novels
the compass will take us to it