"If it was my case," thought the officer, "I should tell him the truth out and out. No good going about the bush this way, saying he suspects one and suspects another, when he does not suspect 'em: far better that old Greatorex should hear the whole and see for himself that it _can't_ be gone into. He don't care to worrit the old gentleman: that's what it is." That is just what it was. But Mr. Butterby was not right in all his premises. "I am fully persuaded that every clerk on my side the house is as innocent as are those on yours, sir," spoke Bede Greatorex, a kind of tremor in his tone; which tremor did not escape the officer's notice, or that it was caused by anxious, painful eagerness: and that astute man knew in a moment that old Greatorex must not have his suspicions turned actively on Bede's employés. "I believe it was Butterby who first mentioned them. Upon that, I ran them over in my mind, and remembered that Hurst was the only one spending much money--he lives in fashionable lodgings as a gentleman. Was it not so, Mr. Butterby?" The detective was professionally prepared for most accidents. Therefore when Bede Greatorex turned upon him with startling rapidity, a second flash darting forth from his dark eyes, he never moved a muscle. "You are right, sir." "Bede," said Mr. Greatorex, in a still tone of meaning, "if the same facility for getting access to your room attached to the clerks on my side the house, I should not say to you so positively that they were not guilty. You seem to resent the very thought that suspicion can attach to them." "Not at all, father. Perhaps I felt vexed that Hurst's name should have been mentioned to you without grounds." "Understand me, Mr. Butterby," spoke the elderly gentleman sharply. "I expect to have this matter better attended to than it has been. And I repeat to you that I think the clerks in my son's room should be--I do not say suspected, but sufficiently thought of. It is monstrous to know that a theft like this can have been openly committed in a professional man's house, and you officers should avow yourselves at fault. We may be losing some of our clients' deeds next." The detective glanced at Mr. Bede Greatorex, and was answered, as he thought, by the faintest signs in return. It was not the first time he had been concerned in cases where sons wished things kept from knowledge of fathers. "We don't give it up, sir. Allow us more time, and perhaps we may satisfy you better." "I shall expect you to do so," returned Mr. Greatorex with sufficient emphasis. And the officer rose to quit his presence. "Go round by the other door to my room and wait." Surely these words were breathed into Mr. Butterby's ear! Faint though the whisper was he could not have fancied it. Bede Greatorex was crossing his path at the moment, as if he wished to look from the window.