ou accuse him," said Hurd;
"but I don't believe one word of it. It's my opinion that you gave that
brooch to a third party on the same evening as you stole it. Now, then,
who did you give it to?"

"Mr. Pash," persisted Tray.

"On the same evening?"

There was no reply to this. Tray set his lips firmly and refused to
speak. Hurd shook an admonitory finger again. "You can't play fast and
loose with me, my lad," he said grimly; "if you didn't part with that
brooch, you must be mixed up in the crime yourself. Perhaps you pinned
the poor wretch's mouth together. It's just the sort of cruel thing a
young Cain like you would do."

"I didn't," said Master Clump, doggedly; "you take me to master, and
I'll tell him what I tells you. He's the one."

Hurd shook the boy to make him talk more, but Tray simply threw himself
on the floor of the carriage and howled. The detective therefore picked
him up and flung him into a corner. "You stop there, you little
ruffian," he said, seriously annoyed at the boy's recalcitrants; "we'll
speak again when we are in Mr. Pash's office." So Tray curled up on the
cushion, looked savagely at the detective and held his tongue.

"What do you think will be the end of all this?" asked Paul, when Master
Clump was thus disposed of.

"Lord knows," replied Hurd, wiping his face. "I never had a harder case
to deal with. I thought Hay had a hand in it, but it seems he hadn't,
bad lot as he is, asking your pardon, Mr. Beecot, since you're his
friend."

"That I am not," disclaimed Beecot, emphatically; "there's a young
lawyer I know, Ford is his name. I went to see him as to what chances
Sylvia had of getting the money. He was at school with me, and
remembered Hay. He said that Hay was dismissed from Torrington School
for stealing."

"Didn't you know that yourself."

"No, I had left the school--I was ill at home with scarlet fever. But
Hay apparently always has been a bad lot. He and that Krill pair are
well matched, for I believe the mother is bad, even if the daughter Maud
isn't. By the way her age--?"

Hurd nodded. "I believe she was fifteen at the time of the death of Lady
Rachel. If so, she can't be legitimate or may not be the daughter of
Aaron Norman. However, I've asked my sister to look up Mrs. Krill's past
life in Stowley, where she comes from."

"But she wasn't married to Krill at Stowley?"

"No. But she lived there as Anne Tyler. From the certificate she was
married to Krill at a sm