"Pah!" said Brendon, with disgust. "Well, sir," retorted Bawdsey, shrugging his shoulders. "I had to get at the truth somehow, and detective's work is not all so honorable as novelists make out. I got Margery alone." "And how did you set to work?" "Well, it was this morning in the sitting-room. Miss Bull had gone out and had left Margery to make up some accounts. The girl was laboring away at them and getting into a hopeless mess. I came to speak with her, and offered to do them. I soon put the accounts to rights and then began to talk of Miss Bull." "Why of Miss Bull?" "Why--" Bawdsey pinched his lip--"I thought at the time that Margery was guilty, and that if in talking to her I laid the blame on Miss Bull that the girl would speak out." "You traded on the poor wretch's friendship. Bawdsey, I'm ashamed of you." "I'm ashamed of myself," replied the detective, penitently; "but Lord bless you! Mr. Vane, one gets used to this sort of thing. In our business the means justifies the ends far more than in religion." "I certainly don't think it justifies any end in religion," said George, sharply. "Well, you accused Miss Bull of the crime?" "In a way I did. Margery denied it." "What did you say?" "That she might as well confess. I declared that I had evidence to prove Miss Bull's guilt, and that she would be arrested when she came back. I declare, Mr. Vane, I thought that girl would strike me. She was like a wild-cat." "I wish she had," growled George, whose generous spirit was revolted by the use Bawdsey had put Margery to. "She said if I arrested Miss Bull she would kill me. I said, 'As you killed your aunt.' She up and said: 'Yes, I did kill her. Miss Bull is innocent, and you know she is.' Of course, when she admitted the fact I at once began to suspect Miss Bull." "Why did you do that?" "Because if Margery had been guilty she would not have owned up. But if Miss Bull was guilty, Margery would certainly take the guilt on herself." "Poor girl!" murmured George "there is something noble in that dull soul." Bawdsey could not see this, and mentally disagreed with it. However, he did not want to argue down Brendon's too tender conscience, so he went on with his recital. "While Margery was threatening me and taking the guilt on herself, Miss Bull came in. That stupid girl ran to her and fell at her feet, crying that I knew all, but that she would die for her dear Miss Bull." "And what did the woman say?" "She asked me if I knew. I said I did. She demanded how I found out. I told her that that was my business. She began to smell a rat and suspected that I was bluffing. She would have held her tongue, but Margery was in such terror for her friend that she came out with the whole story. Miss Bull tried to stop her, but Margery kept repeating that she would die for her dear Miss Bull, and so let the cat out of the bag." "The girl is half-witted--all this may not be true."