"I see," said the boy, slowly, and his voice grew reflective; "you bought it from him? No!"—with a sudden flash of inspiration—"he was a gentleman! By hook or by crook you stole it!"
Jasper nodded.
"Never mind how I got it, I have got it," and he struck his breast softly.
The sunken eyes followed the gesture, as if they would penetrate to the hidden paper itself.
"I know," he said, in a low voice; "I saw you put it there."
"And you will not see it again until I hand it to Stella, to-morrow, or give it to the magistrate before whom you will stand, my dear lad, charged with forgery."
The word had scarcely left his lips, but the boy was upon him, his long, thin arms—endued for a moment, as it seemed, with a madman's strength—encircling Jasper's neck. Not a word was uttered, but the thin, white face, lit up by the gleaming eyes, spoke volumes.
Jasper was staggered, not frightened, but simply surprised and infuriated.
"You—you young fool!" he hissed. "Take your arms off me."