“Yes, sir. I fed it and kept it clean, for the—master.” The valet sniffled slightly. Drew watched him with keen eyes.
“Did it repeat much of Mr. Stockbridge’s conversation?” he asked.
“Repeat, sir?”
“What I’m trying to get at is, whether or not the bird was in the habit of repeating words that seemed to strike its fancy. Did it act like a parrot?”
“It’s very much like a parrot, sir. Sometimes it was sulky and wouldn’t say anything for days. Other times, sir, we had trouble keeping it quiet.”
Drew turned in his chair and fingered a paper. “I looked up everything I can find in my library here, in regard to magpies,” he said. “Is there any difference between an ordinary magpie and a Spanish one?” he added, turning.
“I don’t think so, sir. They can all be taught to talk—the same as a parrot, sir.”
“Then if this bird should repeat a word, or two words, over and over again it would be plausible to assume that some one had used the word or two words. I want to make myself clear,” Drew added with engaging candor. “What I’m getting at is important in view of the fact that this magpie used two words after we broke down the door to the library and found Mr. Stockbridge murdered.”
Delaney leaned forward.
“The words this bird used were ‘Ah Sing,’ as near as we can arrive at them. Did you ever hear it repeat that couplet?”