in due course mr. fuller returned to his office and to the chambers in barkers inn, only to find that dick had not yet put in an appearance. alan regretted his absence greatly, since latimer was the one person to whom he could talk freely. needless to say, the young man was bubbling over with the information he had acquired, and found it very difficult to think of anything else, which was scarcely a good state of mind in which to attend to his clients' affairs. had the solicitor been able, he would have set everything else aside until he had solved the mystery of the rotherhithe murder, and had learned the secret of the peacock; but as he had to earn his bread and butter, such indulgence in gratifying his curiosity was not to be thought of. alan felt very unsettled for quite a week after his arrival in chancery lane.

nor were his anxieties allayed when he heard from his clerk, that during his absence, an urchin who called himself alonzo had haunted the office, demanding on every occasion to see mr. fuller. and the odd thing about the matter was, that when alan really did return, jotty--to give him his slum name--failed to put in an appearance. the solicitor did not dare to write to the lad saying that he would be glad to accord him an interview on a settled date, since miss grison might read the letter and prevent the boy's attendance. for the same reason fuller did not call at the thimble square house, lest its landlady, being extremely sharp, might--and probably would--guess that he was tampering with jotty's loyalty. as a matter of fact alan was not, as he did not seek to question the page about the lady, but simply wished to learn what he had to say concerning his association with baldwin grison. and as the dead man's sister desired that the assassin of her brother should be captured and punished, fuller deemed that he was right in using every means to forward her aims. jotty--alan felt sure of this--was a valuable witness, and, if dexterously questioned, might be able to throw some light on the darkness which environed the crime. it certainly seemed that the next step to be taken was the examination of the street-arab, but as the lad did not put in an appearance, and fuller--on the before-mentioned grounds--did not dare to awaken miss grison's suspicions by sending for him, he had to wait patiently. and this, coupled with the continued absence of latimer, did not tend to sweeten the young man's now irritable temper.

in fact the wear and tear of thought so displayed itself outwardly that when dick did arrive he commented openly on his friend's sorry looks. the reporter came back to london by the night mail, and finding when he got to barkers inn that alan had already gone to his office he followed him there as soon as a bath and a change of clothes had made him respectable. breakfast he had already dispatched in a restaurant on his way from the railway station. dick, having enjoyed his holiday, was in a happy frame of mind, but his smiles left him when he saw his chum's anxious face.

"what the deuce is the matter?" asked mr. latimer, when the first greetings were over, and he was smoking comfortably in a chair, "you look sick."

"i am sick--with worry," said fuller emphatically, "it's that infernal case."

"oh," said dick leisurely; "which part of it in particular?"

"the whole. i have much to tell you, as i want your opinion. the more i look into the matter the more confused does it grow."

"have you been looking into the matter?" asked dick provokingly calm.

"yes, i have, and in consequence i have scarcely enjoyed my christmas at home," cried alan.

"not even with the most charming girl in the world?"

"no. because she asks questions, and i have to keep a great deal from her."

"on account of her uncle?"

"precisely!"

"hum! is he guilty?"

"i don't know. anyway he has the peacock."

latimer pushed back his chair and let his pipe fall. "what?"

"he has the peacock. i've seen it, and what is more he allowed me to make a drawing of it," and alan fumbled among his papers for the sketch. "here it is, dicky!"

"the devil!" ejaculated the journalist staring at the painted bird; "then the man murdered grison after all."

"i'm not sure. i have my doubts."

"but hang it, man, you know that grison was murdered for the sake of the original of this." he laid his finger on the sketch, "and if sorley has it, he must have taken it out of the murdered man's room."

"well you won't be so sure of that when you have heard my story," said alan in a tart way, for his nerves were all jangling.

"tell it, old son," remarked latimer, recovering his pipe, and not another word did he utter until he was in full possession of alan's information.

the solicitor told him everything from the time he had arrived at belstone until the moment of departure, and carried up the narrative as far as london by relating how jotty had been haunting the office.

"and now that i am back, the little fool won't turn up," finished fuller, greatly exasperated, "and i dare not send for him."

"no," nodded dick grimly, "that is very obvious. the quieter you keep this business the better it will be until we get at its truth. hum! it's a most extraordinary complication, alan." he stared at the sketch which was now lying on the table. "have you solved this riddle?"

"no. so far as i can see there isn't any riddle to solve."

"it looks like it," murmured dick, looking hard at fuller's artistic effort; "so my sixth sense was right when it told me that morad-bakche was mixed up in the matter."

alan nodded crossly. "but i wish that your sixth sense would tell you who murdered grison."

"we shan't learn that until we question the sister. if she admits that she took the peacock to the monastery at belstone, sorley will be exonerated. if she declares that she did not, sorley will have to account for its being in his possession."

"but confound it man, can't you see that if--as sorley says--she wishes to get him into trouble, she will certainly decline to tell the truth."

"what is the truth anyhow?" asked dick, after the fashion of pontius pilate.

"lord knows!" replied fuller disconsolately. "of course jotty never said that grison had the peacock on the precise night of his murder. the boy only saw it on previous occasions. it is quite possible that the dead man may have given it to his sister to send to sorley and make trouble. they both hated the man, and evidently with good reason."

"yes; but if that were the case, it would argue that grison knew he would be murdered, which is ridiculous. besides sorley told a lie about his motor bicycle, which shows that he does not wish it known he was able to slip up to town and back again without making use of the publicity of the railway. i am inclined to suspect sorley as the guilty person."

"do you think bakche may have killed grison?"

"no; for if he had he would scarcely have given the peacock to the sister for sorley's benefit."

alan nodded. "i thought that myself," he said slowly. "well what is to be done now, dicky?"

"inspector moon ought to know," said latimer significantly.

fuller jumped up quickly, "not just now, dick; don't say anything to him. he would certainly arrest sorley straight away, and i wish to spare marie the disgrace."

"but the truth is bound to come out sooner or later, alan," remarked dick, perplexed how to act.

"the truth! quite so. still, when known, the truth may not implicate mr. sorley. for all we know he may be perfectly innocent."

"he may be," retorted latimer dryly, and with a shrug, "but to my mind he seems to be deeply involved in the matter. the evidence is strong----"

"the circumstantial evidence," corrected alan quickly.

"i don't see that your interpolated word matters a cent, sonny. the peacock being in the man's possession points to his guilt."

"unless miss grison left it secretly at the monastery."

"there is that chance certainly," admitted dick with another shrug. "however as sorley is not aware that he is suspected he won't try to bolt, so under the circumstances i shall hold my tongue until things straighten out a trifle. but if he does try to leave the country, i must speak, alan, and so must you, else we may be accused of compounding a felony. as a lawyer you ought to know that much."

"i do know it," said fuller impatiently, "and if sorley is guilty he assuredly must be arrested and punished when the case is proved. all the same we must give him the benefit of the doubt until his criminality is placed beyond all question."

"why do you defend the man so?" asked latimer suspiciously; "you don't approve of him, as you have told me dozens of times."

"i am not thinking of the man so much as of marie. the shame of having her uncle tried and hanged for a sordid murder would certainly break her heart, dick."

"well there's something in that. how love does complicate honest behavior. but that you love miss inderwick you would have no hesitation in telling moon the truth."

"i admit that. but things being as they are, i must ask you not to speak to the police until i give you leave."

"very good, old son. i see we'll both end in jail, for tampering with the course of justice. all the same i shall hold my tongue. and now that being settled so far may i ask what you intend to do?"

"i can hardly say. what in your opinion is the step i should take?"

"question miss grison and learn if she took back the peacock," said dick without a moment's hesitation.

"but hang it all man, she will only tell lies."

"why should she?"

"your common-sense, let alone what we talked about a few moments ago, should tell you," said fuller impatiently. "if she did take all that trouble to implicate sorley, she won't give herself away by acknowledging it. the admission that she concealed the peacock in its old cupboard would exonerate sorley. you can see that?"

"yes! of course since she hates the man, she---- hullo, what's up?" latimer asked this question because alan suddenly started to his feet and listened intently to a noise in the outer office.

"i hear a boy's voice," said the solicitor hastily throwing open the door just in time to permit jotty to be pushed into the room by the indignant clerk with whom he had been arguing. "oh it's you, young man. i thought so. that's all right, seymour, i'll attend to him," and fuller, closing the door, pointed out a chair to the page. "sit down, jotty."

"alonzer, please sir," said the lad quickly, "i don't want t' hey anythin' t' do wiff m' ole bad self. i've turned over a new leaf, miss grison ses."

"we'll take a look at the old leaf before you do that finally," said alan, seating himself at his desk. "just now and for the next half hour, you are the disreputable jotty, and not the sunday-school alonzo."

the boy grinned cunningly and nodded, glancing round the office and at latimer in a furtive and stealthy manner. he did not wear his page's suit of many buttons, but a civilian kit of badly-cut tweed clothes. but as his sleek hair was well oiled, and he had a penny sprig of holly in his button-hole it must be presumed that jotty was out for the day, and was very pleased with his general appearance. being small and wizen, his legs scarcely touched the ground, when seated, and he looked not unlike a monkey. but his very shrewd and restless eyes, which were taking in everything to be stored in his active brain, showed that he was a clever and decidedly dangerous lad.

"who's him, sir?" asked jotty, pointing at dick in negro fashion with his sharp chin, "d'y wan' me t' tork wen he's here?"

"yes, and you know this gentleman, so don't pretend ignorance."

"ho yes," murmured jotty with pretended surprise, "y'wos at th' inquitch wosn't y'sir."

"i was, jotty. you and i and inspector moon had a talk."

"'ad we, sir?" asked the lad with a vacant look. fuller leaned over and gave him a shake. "no nonsense, boy," he said sharply, "you have to answer a few questions. i'm glad you have come to see me at last, you young rip."

"at larst, sir," protested the page meekly, "why i've bin an' bin an' bin ever so oftin and couldn't spot yer nohow, sir. an' t'aint easy t' git out of th' house wen she's got her eyes abaout nohow. but it's m'day orf an' i come along t' see if i cud make a quid or two."

"your price is a high one," said alan dryly, "how do i know what you have to tell me is worth a pound, or a quid as you call it."

"oh i ain't got nothink t' tell," said jotty readily, "but i thought es y'd help a pore cove es wants t' be respectable."

"i shall help you at a price," said fuller, who did all the talking while dick smoked in silence and kept his ears and eyes open. latimer had not a very good opinion of the witness, as he thought him cunning, and likely to tell lies unless he was driven into a corner, and perhaps for that very reason. "do you know this?" asked alan, pushing the sketch under jotty's shrewd blue eyes. dick frowned at the action, as he deemed it wise that alan should have kept the fact of the peacock being in sorley's possession to himself, in the meantime at all events.

"yessir," said jotty quickly, "it's a picter of him es was kind t' me's goldbird es he showed me times an' agin."

"well then," said alan, and dick's frown relaxed as he spoke, "this picture, as you call it was taken long ago, before mr. grison got the peacock. was the bird like that sketch, or is there any change."

"nosir. it wos just like that here. wiff a big tail and shiny things on it. them spots is th' shiny things ain't they, sir?"

alan nodded, while dick grinned at this compliment to his friend's artistic abilities. "when did you see the peacock last?"

"on the very night es he es wos kind t' me wos murdered."

"can you swear to that?" asked alan with secret dismay, for this reply seemed to prove that sorley was guilty.

"yessir. i kin swear hard i kin," said jotty with a frank smile.

"are you sure that mr. grison didn't give the peacock to someone, say a day or so before he met with his death?"

"him give it away," cried jotty with supreme contempt, "why sir, he es wos good t' me, ses t' me es he'd rather die nor give up thet shiny thing. an' die he did, when it wos took."

"who took it, boy?" demanded dick suddenly.

"him es slipped the knife int' th' pore cove."

"are you sure that grison had the peacock on the night he died?" asked alan, fighting against hope for marie's sake.

"i'd swear t' it anywhere, sir," said jotty confidently. "i liked t' hev a look et that there shiny thing, and him es wos good t' me, he shows it t' me most every night, saying wot lots of swell things it cud buy. every night he showed it t' me," repeated jotty with emphasis, "and afore he went t'bed that night he let me 'ave a squint."

"on the night he was murdered."

"on the night he was done for," said jotty in his own simple way.

"that seems conclusive, alan," put in latimer.

"yes," said the lawyer with a sigh, then added under his breath. "poor marie, what a shock for her. jotty, you liked mr. grison, didn't you?"

"yessir, no end. he wos good t' me, and guv' me things t' eat an' drink. oh my," jotty rubbed his lean stomach vulgarly, "the baked taters an' corfee and saveloys i hed when he stood sam."

"then you would like the man who stabbed him to be punished?" pursued fuller artfully.

"yessir; and bring him t' th' gallers i shell somehow."

"but you have no idea who murdered mr. grison?" remarked latimer quickly.

"oh hevn't i? perhaps not, and praps i ain't sich a fool es you'd think me t' be, mister. i knows whot i knows anyhow."

"what is that, jotty."

the lad looked indescribably cunning. "i ain't agoin' t' tell till i'm a dead cert es i'm right."

"but if you tell me, jotty, i can help you."

"i don' want no help," said the boy sullenly.

"if i speak to inspector moon you'll have to tell," said dick sharply.

"sha'n't, so there," growled jotty, his shrill voice becoming gruff as if the change to manhood had suddenly taken place.

"you shall."

jotty made no reply, but looked at both gentlemen with a mulish expression evidently determined not to speak. "it's wuth a quid or two," he muttered after a long pause.

"what is worth a quid or two?" demanded alan, eyeing him with a strong dislike, for he objected to the brat's obstinacy.

"what i knows."

"what do you know?"

"that's tellin's."

"if i give you a quid, as you call it, will you tell."

"yessir," said jotty promptly, and held out a curved claw in which alan, as promptly, placed a sovereign. the boy bit it to prove its quality and then spat on it for luck. "i knows someone es wos with him es wos good t' me, on that night," said jotty, agreeably supplying the information.

"who was the person?" asked latimer, while alan winced, quite expecting to hear the name of sorley.

"sha'n't tell."

"do you know the name?"

"yessir. leastways i spelled it out fro' th' letter. oh i've 'ad schoolin', i 'ave, gents both, and knows m' letters somehow."

"what is this letter?" asked alan in a peremptory tone.

"a letter es the cove es came wrote sayin' he'd come. i never sawr him es wrote the letter," explained jotty, "cos, after i seed the peacock on th' night; him es wos good t' me turned me out to dos elsewheres. but i fun' the letter i did in them ole clothes."

"whose old clothes?"

"him es wos good t' me."

"mr. grison?"

"yessir. he fell an' got covered with mud like. an' he ses t' me he'd like me t' taike the mud orf, and i did. in th' coat i fun' th' letter, an' wrapped up marbles in it. i furgot t' put it back," added jotty in an apologetic manner, "an' es he es wos good t' me didn't ask fur no letter, i never said anything, i didn't, nohow."

"when was this?" questioned alan anxiously. "on the day afore he es wos good t' me wos made a dead un."

"have you the letter?"

"yes sir!" and jotty clutched the breast of his ill-fitting jacket, "but i want another quid or two for it."

"you know how to make a bargain, young man," said latimer humorously; "just hand over that letter at once."

"i sha'n't. so there," said jotty, turning obstinate again. "it's wuth another quid anyhow. an' i sawr him es wrote it when he called t' see him es wos good t' me afore."

"oh this person called to see mr. grison before, did he."

"onct or twice he did. allays at night, and then they torks."

"what about?"

"i dunno, sir. i never heard. him es was good t' me, he allays turned me out wen the gent came."

"oh," said dick meditatively, "so this visitor was a gent?"

"yes sir. a real gent, wiff slap-up clothes and----"

the description sounded like that of sorley, and alan stretched out his hand. "i want that letter, you imp?" he said impressively.

"give me a quid an' it's yours."

fuller shrugged his shoulders and glanced at latimer, who nodded. it was unpleasant being dictated to by a boy, but the issues were so great that dick's nod intimated it was best to agree, and get the epistle in question with the least possible trouble. money was scarce with fuller, but so anxious was he to arrive at the truth that he reluctantly brought forth another sovereign. jotty clawed it and went through the same ceremony. he then produced a letter written on very excellent paper, which was dirty with having been in his pocket for some length of time, probably to wrap up the marbles he had mentioned. in his anxiety dick rose and looked over his friend's shoulder to read the letter. it did not take long, as it only consisted of a date, a line and the writer's initials as follows, on a plain sheet of gray note-paper without any address:--

"11 november.

"will see you seven o'clock, 13: 11: 08.

"r. v. s."

"is it his writing?" asked latimer, referring to sorley, but not mentioning the name because of jotty's presence.

"i think so. i can compare it with the letter he wrote me. the initials are certainly his, and the appointment is for the night of the murder."

"but he wos up afore," put in jotty, who grinned in a very satisfied manner, as he well might do, considering he had just made two pounds.

"who was up before?" asked latimer sharply. "him es wrote thet letter."

"can you describe the man?"

"ain't i done so," said jotty in an injured tone, "he wos a real gent wiff slap-up clothes. hadn't got no hair on his face he hadn't and torked es if every cove wos dirt. stiff-like, too, an' an ole 'un, tryin' to look like a young toff."

alan winced again as both the letter and jotty's very excellent description seemed to prove that sorley was the guilty person. "how do you know that this gentleman you describe wrote the letter?"

"cos i seed him coming up an hour or so afore him es wos good t' me kicked th' bucket. i wos turned out, long afore he come in. so i goes away an' dosses wiff a friend o' mine, and never hears no more till nex' morning when mother slaig, she ups and ses es murder had bin done cruel."

"is that all you know?"

"every blessed bit, sir," said jotty cheerfully. "why didn't you tell this to inspector moon at the inquest?" demanded latimer sharply.

"cos there wasn't no quids in it then," retorted the boy impudently, "an' i do nothin' fur nothin', i do anyhow. an' now i've got wot i arsked fur," he placed his cap on his head, "i'm on t' give m'self a treat."

the youth had edged near the door by this time, and held it slightly open, evidently expecting to be stopped. indeed fuller put out an arm to detain him and ask further questions, only to cause jotty to vanish in a remarkably swift space of time. dick prevented alan, who was about to follow.

"let him go," said latimer quickly, "we can always get hold of him when we want. compare the letters?"

without a word alan did so, and placed both the one he had received from sorley and that which jotty had sold, under dick's eye. the latter drew a long breath. "there's no doubt about it, alan," he said sadly, "they are written by one and the same man. sorley had an appointment with grison at mother slaig's on the night of the crime, as this letter proves. also jotty declares that he saw him, for the description is very accurate. hum! i wish you had not shown the boy that drawing of the peacock."

"the moment i did show it, i guessed that i had made a mistake," said fuller quickly; "and so i was forced against my will to tell a necessary lie in order to lull the lad's suspicions. but it seems evident, dick, that sorley got the peacock from grison, and that the yarn about the sister leaving it, is wholly untrue. what's to be done now?"

"sorley must be arrested for murder," said dick decisively.

"no, no. he may be innocent after all!"

"innocent when you have seen that note and heard jotty's description?"

"well," said alan anxiously, "wait for three days before doing anything."

dick wavered then made up his mind abruptly. "all right, i'll wait," he said gruffly.