"What?" cried Hurd, rising. "You gave the brooch to Mr. Pash?"
"Yuss. He said he'd 'ave me up for stealin', and wouldn't guv me even a bob fur it. But he said I'd be his noo orfice boy. I thought I'd be respectable, so I went. And now," ended Master Clump in a sullen manner, "you knows all, and I ain't done nothin', so I'm orf."
Deborah caught him by the tail of his jacket as he made a dart at the door and swung him into the middle of the room. Hurd laid hands on him. "You come along with me," he said. "I'll confront you with Pash."
Tray gave a howl of terror. "He'll kill me," he shouted, "as he killed the old cove. Yuss. _He_ did it. Pash did it," and he howled again.
In a smoking compartment, which the three had to themselves, Hurd resumed his examination of Tray. They were now on their way to Liverpool Street and thence the detective intended to convey the boy to Pash's office in Chancery Lane. Paul sat in one corner much excited over the turn events had taken. He began to think that the assassin of Aaron Norman would be found after all. More, he believed that Sylvia would yet inherit the five thousand a year she was entitled to, morally, if not legally. Hurd, in another corner, pulled Tray roughly towards him, and shook his finger in the lad's face. The boy was sulky and defiant, yet there was a trace of fear in his eyes, and the reason of this Hurd wished to learn.
"You're a young liar," said Hurd, emphatically, "and not a clever one either. Do you think to play the fool with me?"
"I've tole you all straight," grumbled Tray.
"No, you haven't. Anyone can see that you've made a mistake. I leave it to Mr. Beecot yonder."
"I was about to draw your attention to the mistake," said Paul; "you mean the discrepancy in time."
Master Clump started and became more sulky than ever. He cast down his cunning eyes and shuffled with his feet while Hurd lectured him. "You know well enough," said the detective, sharply, "that the brooch was boned by you on the very evening when the murder took place. It was then that Mr. Beecot met with his accident. Therefore, you could not have given the brooch to Mr. Pash the _next_ morning, as it had been used on the previous night."
"Sha'n't say anythin' more," retorted Tray, defiantly.