"Thank you. We have been talking over the death of her father, and she is anxious to learn who killed him." "Natural enough," said the policeman, scratching his chin, "but it is not easy to do that, especially"--Wasp looked sly--"as there is no reward." "Miss Strode is not in a position to offer a reward," replied Allen, "so, for her sake, I am undertaking the search. I may want your assistance, Wasp, and I am prepared to pay you for the same. I am not rich, but if ten pounds would be of any use----" "If you'd a family of ten, sir, you'd know as it would," said Wasp, looking gratified. "I'm not a haggler, Mr. Allen, but with bread so dear, and my children being large eaters, I'm willing to give you information for twenty pounds." "I can't afford that," said Allen decidedly. "I can tell you something about Butsey," said Wasp eagerly. "Ten pounds will pay you for your trouble," replied Allen, "and remember, Wasp, if you don't accept the offer and find the culprit on your own, there will be no money coming from the Government." "There will be promotion, though, Mr. Allen," said Wasp, drawing himself up, "and that means a larger salary. Let us say fifteen." "Very good, though you drive a hard bargain. When the murderer is laid by the heels I'll pay you fifteen pounds. No, Wasp," he added, seeing what the policeman was about to say, "I can't give you anything on account. Well, is it a bargain?" "It must be, as you won't do otherwise," said Wasp ruefully. "What do you want to know?" "Tell me about this boy." "Butsey?" Wasp produced a large note-book. "I went to Westhaven to see if there was truth in that Sunday school business he told me about when I met him. Mr. Allen, there's no Sunday school; but there was a treat arranged for children from London." "Something of the Fresh Air Fund business?" "That's it, sir. This was a private business, from some folk as do kindnesses in Whitechapel. A lot of children came down on Wednesday----" Allen interrupted. "That was the day Mr. Strode came down?" "Yes, sir, and on that night he was shot at the Red Deeps. Well, sir, Butsey must have been with the ragged children as he looks like that style of urchin. But I can't be sure of this. The children slept at Westhaven and went back on Thursday night." "And Butsey saw Mrs. Merry in the morning of Thursday?" "He did, sir, and me later. Butsey I fancy didn't go back till Saturday. But I can't be sure of this." "You don't seem to be sure of anything," said Allen tartly. "Well, I can't say your information is worth much, Wasp." "Hold on, sir. I've got the address of the folk in Whitechapel who brought the children down. If you look them up, they may know something of Butsey." "True enough. Give me the address." Wasp consented, and wrote it out in a stiff military hand, while Allen went on artfully, "Was any weapon found at the Red Deeps?"