"We won't shy fun any more," said Mr. Mask in his melancholy voice. "I have brought you here to make a clean breast of it."
"About the diamonds?"
"We know about the diamonds," said Horace. "I guess Father Don's got them."
"Saikes! hes he?" said Butsey regretfully; "that comes of me tellin' about the letter I guv to you"--this was to Mask--"if he hadn't opened the hand, he wouldn't have got 'em."
"You are quite wrong, Butsey," said Allen, rising. "Horace, I'll leave the boy in your keeping. Mr. Mask, will you come with me into the next room?"
Rather surprised, Mask did so, and was speedily put in possession of the terrible story. He quite agreed that the matter should be kept quiet. "Though I hope it won't be necessary to rake it up when Butsey is tried for murder."
"What! did that boy shoot Mr. Strode?"
"I think so," said the lawyer, looking puzzled; "but to tell you the truth I'm not sure. I can't get the boy to speak freely. He said he would do so, only in the presence of you and Parkins. That is why I brought him down."
"How did you get hold of him?"
"Through one of the stolen notes. Butsey presented himself at the bank and cashed ten pounds. He was arrested and brought to me. I gave bail for him, and brought him to explain."