"Tell us all the people you saw in Mr. Hick's garden that night," said the Inspector.
"Well," said the tramp. "There was meself, hiding under a bush near the workroom, not doing no harm to nobody - just taking a rest, like."
"Quite," said the Inspector.
"Then I saw that fellow who got the sack that mom-ing," said the tramp. "Peeks, his name was. He was hiding in the bushes, along with some one else I couldn't see. But by the voice I reckoned it was a girl. Well, I see him going into the house and out again, through a window."
"Ah," said the Inspector.
"Then I see an old fellow," said the tramp. "I heard him having a quarrel with Mr. Hick that day - name of Smellie, wasn't it? Yes. Well, he came walking down the drive, quiet-like, and he slipped into the house by a door, just before Peeks came out again."
"Go on," said the Inspector. "Did you see any one else?"
"Yes, I did," said the tramp. "I see Mr. Hick himself! "
Every one listened breathlessly. "I was lying under that there bush," said the tramp, "thinking that there was a lot of people in the garden that evening, when I heard some one squeezing through the gap in the hedge, not far from me. I looked through the sprays of the bush and I saw it was Mr. Hick himself. He stood there in that ditch for a long time, and then he went to a big clump of blackberries and fished up a tin out of the middle where it was hidden."
Fatty gave a little whistle. It was extraordinary to hear the tramp relating the whole story that they had so carefully pieced together. That tin must have contained petrol!