There was a buzz of excitement in the room. Old Simon sat staring at the boy incredulously. His anger had changed for the moment into wonder. He could not understand the cause of Ralph's action. Sharpman had not told him of the interview with Rhyming Joe—he had not thought it advisable.
"Who are you, then?" inquired Goodlaw.
"I'm Simon Craft's grandson." The excitement in the room ran higher. Craft raised himself on his cane to lean toward Sharpman. "He lies!" whispered the old man, hoarsely; "the boy lies!"
Sharpman paid no attention to him.
"When did you first learn that you are Mr. Craft's grandson?" continued the counsel for the defence.
"Last night," responded Ralph.
"Where?"
"At Mr. Sharpman's office."
The blood rushed suddenly into Sharpman's face. He understood it all now; Ralph had overheard.
"Who told you?" asked Goodlaw.