"Very good, mother, you shall act as you think fit. But we know the truth now."
"Yes, save who murdered Mr. Strode."
"I believe Jerry did, or Giles."
"They both deny doing so."
"Of course," said Allen contemptuously, "to save their own skins. I shall go up to London, mother, and tell Mr. Mask what has taken place."
But there was no need for Allen to go to town. That afternoon the lawyer arrived and with him a small boy with one eye. The lad was neatly dressed, he had his hair cut, and his face washed. In spite of his one eye and white cheeks he looked a very smart youngster, and grinned in a friendly manner at Allen and Horace.
"This," said Mr. Mask, leading the lad into the room, where the young men were smoking after luncheon, "is Master Train----"
"Butsey?" said Allen.
"Oh no," replied Mask gravely, "he is a gentleman of property now and is living on his money. You mustn't call him by so low a name as Butsey."
The boy grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "I saiy, how long's this a-goin' on?" he inquired; "you've been shying fun at me all day."