When in possession of all the facts, Parkins thought for a moment and delivered his opinion: "Strode I take it was followed to the Red Deeps by Jerry Train, and Jerry shot him and stole the pocket-book."
"But the wooden hand?"
"Merry's got it and he's in the gang. Hold on," said Parkins, "I'll not give a straight opinion till I see this boy. We'll go down and hunt him up. He'll give the show away."
"But my father?" asked Allen, downcast.
"He's a crank. I don't believe he mixed up in the biznai at all."
CHAPTER XVIII
[THE FINDING OF BUTSEY]
It did not take Allen long to learn something about Butsey. An inquiry at the offices of the philanthropic people, who dealt with the transfer of ragged boys to the country for fresh air, brought out the fact that Butsey was a thief, and a sparrow of the gutter, who lived in a certain Whitechapel den--address given--with a set of the greatest ruffians in London.
"It was a mere accident the boy came here," said the spectacled gentleman who supplied the information; "we were sending out a number of ragged children to Westhaven for a couple of days, and this boy came and asked if he could go too. At first, we were not inclined to accept him, as we knew nothing about him. But the boy is so clever and amusing, that we consented he should go. He went with the rest to Westhaven, but did not keep with those who looked after the poor creatures. In fact, Mr. Hill," said the gentleman frankly, "Butsey took French leave."
"Where did he go?"