This remark was caused by the stopping of the train at Liverpool Street Station. A number of people were returning from their employment in the city to the country, and the platforms were crowded. Hurd grasped Master Clump by the arm and marched him along. But in the confusion of finding his ticket at the barrier, he happened to let go, almost without thinking. In a moment Tray had darted through the barrier and was lost in the crowd. Hurd sprang after him, and left Paul to explain. He hurriedly did so, and then went out to see if the detective had caught the boy. Hurd was nowhere to be seen, neither was Tray. The crowd was increasing thick, and Beecot was at a loss what to do. After waiting for an hour without finding the pair, he thought he would go to Pash's office. It might be that Hurd, having caught Tray, would take him there at once, leaving Beecot to follow. So Paul got on to the metropolitan railway and alighted at the Temple Station. Thence he walked up to the office in Chancery Lane. "Where's Tray?" asked Paul, of the one clerk in the outer room, who was writing for dear life. "I don't know, sir," said the clerk; "he went out this morning and hasn't been back all day. Mr. Pash is very angry with him." Apparently Hurd had not caught the boy yet, or if he had, did not intend to bring him to the office. "Can I see Mr. Pash?" asked Paul, thinking he might as well make some use of his time. The clerk inquired if the solicitor would see Beecot, and presently ushered him into the inner room, where Pash sat looking more like a monkey than ever. He did not appear at all pleased to see the young man, and sucked in his cheek with a crabbed air. "Well, Mr. Beecot, what can I do for you?" he snarled. "You might be civil in the first place," said Paul quietly, taking a chair. "You haven't behaved over well to Miss Norman and me." "Oh," said Pash, coolly, "have you come to reproach me with that?" "I never waste time," rejoined Paul, equally coolly. "I'll leave you to your conscience." Pash shrugged his shoulders and put his feet on the rungs of his chair. "I think my conscience can stand that," he said; "it's business, Mr. Beecot, business. By the way, I have received a request from Mr. Ford of Cheapside to produce the certificate of birth of Miss Krill. What is the meaning of that?" "I think you know very well, Mr. Pash." "I profess my ignorance," said Pash, ironically, although he looked uneasy, and was apparently lying. "In that case you had better wait till you hear from Mr. Ford." "Are you employing Mr. Ford, may I ask?" Paul nodded. "On behalf of Miss Norman," said he, coldly. "Ah," sneered the monkey, "you think you'll get the money." "Wait till you hear from Mr. Ford," retorted Paul again, and enjoyed the baffled expression on Mr. Pash's wrinkled face. "By the way, sir, why did you not tell Hurd that Tray gave you the opal brooch?"