Tom stared at the man, and the man stared at Tom, and then they returned to the dining-room.
“Where was it?” said Tom shortly.
“Just underneath the area steps, sir, close agin the dust-bin,” said the constable.
“Ought to have been in it,” cried Tom, sharply. “Now, who’s this fellow?”
The ragged man, who had been standing on one leg with the foot of the other against his knee, looking like a dilapidated crane, put his foot down and began to make tugs at his hair.
“Beg parding, sir, on’y a poor man, sir. Been pickin’ up a job or two, fetching up kebs and kerridges, sir—party, sir, over at three ’undred and nine, sir. I was a waitin’ about afore the swells began to come, when I sees a big tall man a-hangin’ about, lookin’ as if there was something on, so I goes into the doorway lower down and watches on him.”
“Had he got an organ with him?” said Tom excitedly.
“I heerd one a-playin’ just before, sir, and then I see him a-leaning agin the hairy railings, and arter a bit he seemed to chuck somethin’ up agin the winder and then walks off.”
“Well, go on, my man,” said Tom, eagerly.
“Then I didn’t think no more on it, sir, till all at once I sees a hansom come up and stop at the corner, and this same chap gets out, and that made me feel wild-like and take notice, ’cause it seemed as if I ought to have looked out sharper, and got the job.”