"This gentleman," Kind indicated the doctor, "is a friend of Mr. Herries, who is accused falsely of having killed his uncle, Sir Simon. He has asked me to see into the matter."
"But what can a Cheap-jack do?"
"I was not always a Cheap-jack, Armour. Formerly I was in the London detective force."
"Were ye now?" Armour's face relaxed. "Then maybe ye could put me on to earning this bit of money by telling me where the man we want is hanging out."
"I'd rather earn it for myself," said Sweetlips coolly, "but if you'll tell me all about this kidnapping, I may be able to make it worth your while."
"But I don't see what this, has to do with that?"
"Ah, you can't see far, that's a fact," rejoined the Cheap-jack scathingly. "But it's this way. Your kidnapping has to do with the murder. The man who killed Sir Simon climbed in at the window somewhere about midnight."
"I wasn't there then," said Armour swiftly.
"I know that, or you would have seen him getting in. But he had not left by the time you came, and when you sat down on the bench, you prevented his escape."
"But, Kind," broke in the doctor, "the assassin departed through the tap-room next morning, disguised as his victim."