"I was friends with him long before!" declared Spruce angrily, and hoping against hope that the boy would fail to substantiate his accusation. "Ah, but you became better friends," said Bottles persistently, "and got behind the scenes. Then you were agreeable to mother and asked to look over the theatrical properties. I didn't know what you was after until mother said as you'd asked her for a red wig to play in some theatricals. Then I guessed as you wanted to imitate Madame, who has hair as red as mine. I was sure when you brought mother some orange-spotted black cloth to make a dress and borrowed a bead mantle and a flopping hat off her." "I did not. You are a brazen liar!" "Liar yourself, sir! Mother can prove the truth of everything I say. You paid her well for the things, I don't deny. But mother wouldn't have taken a penny if she knowed what you was after. She never did know, as there was no mention of Madame Alpenny's dress, or of Madame, in the papers reporting the murder. Only when Mr. Hench come yesterday did I take him to mother and tell her all. She was horrified, for mother is a good sort, and told him what I am telling you. I knowed it all before." "The woman is a liar, as the boy is," said Spruce, licking his lips, which were very white and dry. "Shut up, Bottles!" said Hench, as the boy was about to make an angry response. "Let me say the rest. Bottles watched you leave the house dressed as Madame Alpenny, Spruce----" "It was Madame Alpenny!" insisted the Nut, fighting desperately. "It wasn't!" cried Simon, who could not be suppressed. "She'd gone to Hampstead later, after you went, and I let her out. No, I'm talking wrong. I saw her leave the house after four, and she said as she'd an appointment at Hampstead, and wouldn't be back till late. She come back very late, and so did I, because I was follering you." "The boy equivocates, you see," mumbled Spruce. "First one thing, then another." "I think his evidence is very clear, on the whole," declared Vane calmly. "So do I," said Hench. "And after Madame Alpenny went, you came out, Spruce, dressed in the same way. Bottles, knowing how you got the clothes from his mother, the wardrobe mistress at the Bijou, and knowing that Madame Alpenny had already left the house, guessed it was you in disguise. He snatched up his cap and followed, catching the five o'clock train, as you did. The rest you know. You are the guilty man." "He is!" said Bottles with relish. "And he gave back the things to mother saying as the amateur theatricals had been quite a success." "As he hoped to make two thousand a year, I presume they were!" said Vane in a cruel voice. "Well, Spruce, what have you to say before being arrested?" "Arrested!" Spruce gave a scream like a woman, and he dropped limply into his chair, white-faced and aghast. "What for?" "For the murder of Squire Evans."