"Put it there," said Jessop, and again the detective was forced to wince at the strong grip of a horny hand.
Miss Junk appeared in answer to the tinkle of the bell and removed the food. Afterwards she brought in coffee, hot and strong and black, and Jessop drank two cups, with the result that he became quieter. Then the two men settled down for a pleasant conversation. At least, Jessop thought so, for he frequently expressed the friendliest sentiments towards his host. Then Matilda appeared with a bottle of rum, a kettle and two glasses. When she departed, Hurd intimated that he would not require her services again that night. This he whispered to her at the door, while Jessop was placing the kettle on the fire, and before returning to his seat, he quietly turned the key. So he had the mariner entirely to himself and got to business at once while the kettle boiled.
"You have known this place for years I believe," said Hurd, taking a chair opposite to that of Jessop. "Did you ever drop across a man, who used to live here, called Lemuel Krill?"
The other man started. "Whatever makes you arsk that?" he inquired in a husky voice.
"Well, you see, as a commercial I trade in books, and had to do with a second-hand bookseller in Gwynne Street, Drury Lane. It seems that he was murdered," and he eyed Jessop attentively.
The sailor nodded and composed himself with a violent effort. "Yes," said he in his husky voice, "so I heard. But what's he got to do with Lemuel Krill?"
"Oh," said Hurd, carelessly, "it is said Aaron Norman was Krill."
"Might ha' bin. I don't know myself," was the gruff reply.
"Ah! Then you did not know Lemuel Krill?"
"Well," admitted the captain, reluctantly, "I did. He wos the landlord of this here pub, and a cuss to drink. Lor', 'ow he could drink, and did too. But he run away from his wife as used to keep this shanty, and she never heard no more of him."