," said Hurd, sternly, "or you'll get another
clout. You know who I am well enough. Make a clean breast of it, you
imp, or I'll lock you up."

"If I make a clean breast will you let me cut?" asked Tray, beginning to
whimper, but with a cunning gleam in his eyes.

"I'll see, when I know what you have to say."

Tray looked round the room to see if there was any way of escape. But
Paul guarded the closed window and Deborah, itching to box his ears,
stood before the door. Before him was the stern-faced detective with
whom Tray knew well enough he dare not trifle. Under these circumstances
he made the best of a bad job, and told what he knew although he
interpolated threats all the time. "Wot d'y want with me?" he demanded
sulkily.

"Where did you find that brooch?"

"I prigged it from Mr. Beecot's pocket when he wos smashed."

"Did Mr. Hay tell you to steal it?"

"No, he didn't."

"Then how did you know the brooch was in my pocket?" asked Paul.

"I was a-dodgin' round the shorp," snapped Tray, "and I 'eard Mr. Norman
an' Mr. Beecot a-talkin' of the brooch; Mr. Beecot said as he 'ad the
brooch in 'is pocket--"

"Yes, I certainly did," said Paul, remembering the conversation.

"Well, when the smash come, I dodged in and prigged it. T'wos easy
'nough," grinned Tray, "for I felt it in 'is bres' poket and collared
it. I wanted to guv it t' th' ole man, thinkin' he'd pay fur it, as he
said he would. But arter the smash I went 'ome t' m' grann' and hid the
brooch. W'en I wos a-lookin' at it at night, I sawr 'er a-lookin' at it,
and she grabbed it. I cut away with m'own property, not wishin' to be
robbed by the ole gal."

"What did you do then?"

Tray wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "I 'eard that Mr.
Norman wos dead--"

"Yes, and you told Jessop so in the office. How did you know?"

"'Cause I went to the shorp in th' mornin' to sell the brooch to th' ole
man. He was a goner, so I cut to Mr. Pash, as wos his lawyer, and said
I'd sell 'im the brooch."

"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. Hur