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.”