pushed a bell in the wall, a policeman answered it, and presently the prisoner was handed a stiff glass of whiskey and water. 

 After Barney had swallowed it, the Chief said: 

 “Now, look here, my man, I want you to tell me exactly what happened last night. No fairy tales, remember! I know what you told the police, and if I catch you spinning me any yarns on to it, well, it’ll only be the worse for you. I don’t mind telling you, you’re in a pretty bad mess!” 

 The prisoner put down the glass wearily and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Though the room was bitterly cold, the perspiration stood out in beads on his brow. 

 “I have told the trewth, sir,” he said hoarsely, “and it goes against me, don’t it? Hafen’t I not gif myself op to the policeman? Couldn’t I not haf drop the svag and ron away? For sure! And vy didn’t I not do it? For vy, because of vot I seen in that house. I’ve ’ad my bit of trobble mit the police and vy should I tell them how I vos op to a game last night if I vas not a-telling the trewth, eh! I’ve been on the crook, gentlemen, I say it, ja, but I ain’t no murderer, God choke me I ain’t! 

 “I’ve earned gut monney in my time on the ’alls but life is very ’ardt, and I’ve been alvays hongry these days. Yesterday I meet old Mac wot I used to meet about the ’alls I vos workin’ along o’ my boss... at the agent’s it vos were I vos lookin’ for a shop! The perfesh always makes a splash about its salaries, gentlemen, and Mac ’e vos telling me vot a lot o’ monney he make on the Samuel Circuit and ’ow ’e ’ad it at home all ready to put into var savings certif’kits. I never done a job like this von before, gentlemen, but I vos hardt pushed for money, s’welp me I vos! 

 “I left it till late last night because of these air raids... I vanted to be sure that ole Mac and ’is daughter should be asleep. I god in from the back of the louse, oi, oi, bot it vos dead easy! through the scollery vindow. I cleared op a bagful of stuff in the dining-room... there vosn’t, anything vorth snatching outer the parlor... and sixty-five quid out of an old cigar-box in the desk. The police ’as got it... I give it all back! I say I haf stolen, but murder? No!” He paused. 

 “Go on,” said the Chief. 

 The prisoner looked about him in a frightened way. 

 “I vos jus’ thinking I had better be getting avay, he continued in his hoarse, 

 Prev. P 34/226 next