"What's that?" asked Rupert sharply, "you are mistaken."
"I guess not. That old man would have been glad to see you scragged, Mr. Ainsleigh. He asked me to let him have the tie--"
"What for?"
Burgh shrugged his shoulders. "He didn't say. But I let him have it anyhow. I wasn't in a position to refuse. Y'see Ainsleigh I'm not a holy Bill and--"
"And Forge knows a few of your escapades likely to land you in--"
"Y'needn't say the word," interrupted Burgh in his turn, "t'isn't a pretty one. But I guess Forge could make things hot for me if he liked, so that was why I lay low when I saw the tie round the old girl's throat. I guessed then. Forge had scragged her and boned the fan. I asked him about it, and he lied like billeo. Said he'd lost the tie, and never touched the old 'un. Then he said if I made any fuss, he'd tell the police about--"
"About what?" asked Ainsleigh, seeing the man hesitate.
"Huh," replied Burgh, uncomfortably, "I guess that's my business. I told you I wasn't a saint."
"I suspect you're a thorough paced gaol-bird."
"No, I ain't been in quod. Where I gavorted round, in the Naked Lands, they don't shove a man in chokey for every trifle."