Benjie took a long time to work round to the subject uppermost on his mind, but at length he said— “I know you’re always on the look-out for hints, and you’re so kind and attentive when I’m in you’re hands that I couldn’t help coming to you with what I’ve found out.” I grinned unfeelingly into his solemnly puckered-up face. “O Benjie, try that on somebody else,” I rejoined, with a look which must have convinced him that I was wide awake to his clumsy flattery. “Out with what you’ve to say; I’ll find out your motive afterwards, if it’s of any importance.” “What’s it worth to put the thief in your hands?” he asked with cunning look, which could not possibly be described on paper. “It’s worth about as much as the thief or yourself—nothing,” I calmly answered. Ah, well, he was sorry for that, but he was still anxious to help us—virtuous Benjie!—and would not mind doing a good action for once. “You know Pat Corkling? Pauley, they call him,” he continued. “Why! is he the man?” I cried in surprise. “I had a letter accusing Bain, the policeman on the beat, of the crime, and I strongly suspect, Benjie, that that letter came from _you_.” Oh, no, it was quite a mistake. Benjie protested strongly—a trifle too strongly—that he had never written such a letter in his life; and I immediately concluded that he had written that letter, but was puzzled to think why he should now come to me accusing Pauley. “How do you know that Pauley did the job?” I asked, when Benjie had done protesting. “I didn’t say he did, and I’m not going to say it. I’m not to appear as a witness in the case at all, mind—that must be the agreement, or I tell nothing.” “All right; I agree to that; go ahead with your story—I daresay it’s a lie from beginning to end, so it doesn’t matter much.” Benjie smiled delightedly at the compliment, and proceeded— “When I got out of quod and heerd of the thing—which had been done when I was in—I had a idee that the peg was the man that did it, just like the man, whoever he was, that wrote to you,” demurely observed Benjie. “Pegs is an awful bad lot—except you, of course—oh, honour bright, except you,” he added, catching himself up barely in time. “But then I found out that Pauley had been flush of money for near a week, and I took to watching him. I didn’t get much out of him, for he’s fly, I tell you.” “That’s a great compliment from you, Benjie—what a pity he can’t hear it,” I remarked. “But there was some Indian ornaments took, wasn’t there?” Benjie added, suddenly coming to the point, and looking innocently anxious for enlightenment. “Yes.” “Well, I saw Bell Corkling with one of them—at least I think it would be one of them—a silver thing, made like a butterfly—and I heerd that others saw her with more, which she had put away in a safe place. O Jamie! ye had Pauley up on suspicion—why didn’t you keep him while you had him?” “That’s a mistake which may be easily rectified, if we can find any of the things in their possession.”