"Montague Fallock," said T. B. quietly. "I know that also."
"Then what else do you want to know?" asked the other, in surprise. "I am perfectly willing, if you can make it easy for me, to tell you everything. The man who is known as Moole is a half-witted old farm labourer who was picked up by Farrington some years ago to serve his purpose. He is the man who unknowingly poses as a millionaire. It is his estate which Farrington is supposed to be administering. You see," he explained, "this rather takes off the suspicion which naturally attaches to a house which nobody visits, and it gives the inmates a certain amount of protection."
"That I understand," said T. B.; "it is, as you say, an ingenious idea—what of Fall?"
Poltavo shrugged his shoulders.
"You know as much of him as I. There are, however, many things which you may not know," he went on slowly, "and of these there is one which you would pay a high price to learn. You will never take Farrington."
"May I ask why?" asked T. B. interestedly.
"That is my secret," said the other; "that is the secret I am willing to sell you."
"And the price?" asked T. B. after a pause.
"The price is my freedom," said the other boldly. "I know you can do anything with the police. As yet, no charge has been made against me. At the most, it is merely a question of attempting to obtain money by a trick—and even so you will have some difficulty in proving that I am guilty. Yes, I know you will deny this, but I have some knowledge of the law, Mr. Smith, and I have also some small experience of English juries. It is not the English law that I am afraid of, and it is not the sentence which your judges will pass upon me which fills me with apprehension. I am afraid of my treatment at the hands of the Russian Government."
He shivered a little.