"I prigged it from Mr. Beecot's pocket when he wos smashed."
"Did Mr. Hay tell you to steal it?"
"No, he didn't."
"Then how did you know the brooch was in my pocket?" asked Paul.
"I was a-dodgin' round the shorp," snapped Tray, "and I 'eard Mr. Norman an' Mr. Beecot a-talkin' of the brooch; Mr. Beecot said as he 'ad the brooch in 'is pocket—"
"Yes, I certainly did," said Paul, remembering the conversation.
"Well, when the smash come, I dodged in and prigged it. T'wos easy 'nough," grinned Tray, "for I felt it in 'is bres' poket and collared it. I wanted to guv it t' th' ole man, thinkin' he'd pay fur it, as he said he would. But arter the smash I went 'ome t' m' grann' and hid the brooch. W'en I wos a-lookin' at it at night, I sawr 'er a-lookin' at it, and she grabbed it. I cut away with m'own property, not wishin' to be robbed by the ole gal."
"What did you do then?"
Tray wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "I 'eard that Mr. Norman wos dead—"
"Yes, and you told Jessop so in the office. How did you know?"