“But if Sorley has it, Miss Grison need not be afraid that he will ruin her, Dicky. If she is a thief, Sorley is a murderer.” “We can’t be sure of that.” “If he has the peacock we can be sure.” “First catch your hare,” observed Latimer sententiously. “In other words, my son, wait and learn if Sorley has the thing. It’s no use theorizing, Alan; we can do nothing until we learn more. Bakche probably will call and see you, so we shall learn what he has to do with the matter.” “He has nothing to do with it, I am sure,” said Fuller vehemently. “My sixth sense tells me otherwise,” observed Dick dryly. “Hang your sixth sense.” “By all means. But to continue: Jotty will come and see you, sooner or later, I feel convinced, and then you can learn.” Dick paused. “Learn what?” “My sixth sense doesn’t tell me. Wait and see.” “Oh, hang it, Dick, what nonsense you talk! It’s all moonshine.” “I grant that,” returned Latimer serenely. “Until we can gather more facts it is certainly all moonshine. But since seeing you last I have learned a fact which may startle you. Moon told me when I went to look him up yesterday, Baldwin Grison was a murderer.” “What’s that you say?” cried Alan, as startled as Dick could wish. “Ah, I thought I’d raise your hair. Yes, my son. A couple of months ago, in the opium den kept by Chin-Chow—or rather in the lane outside it—a well-dressed man was found dead. He had been knocked on the head with some blunt instrument of the bludgeon kind. From letters and cards found in his pockets it was discovered that he was an independent gentleman who lived in the west end, and who went down to Rotherhithe to indulge in the black smoke. His watch and studs and purse had been taken, so it was supposed that he had been robbed by some scoundrel haunting those very shady parts. Inspector Moon could find nothing, however, to point out the criminal, but has always been on the hunt. The other day he came across the dead man’s watch, which had been pawned by Mother Slaig. She said that Grison had given it to her instead of money for his rent and had stated that it was his own watch. Moon thinks that Mother Slaig is quite innocent of guilty knowledge and that Grison, being hard up, must have knocked down and robbed the dead man when they both left Chin-Chow’s opium den. Search was made in Grison’s room afterwards, and under a loose board the studs of the victim were discovered. So there is no doubt that Grison murdered the man for money and was afterwards murdered by his unknown assassin for the sake of the peacock. It is just as well that Grison is dead, as he certainly would have been arrested and hanged for his crime.” “Destiny gave him a dose of his own gruel,” said Alan thoughtfully. “He must have been a bad lot, in spite of his sister’s eulogies.”