"I don't understand," said Spatola, anxiously.
"The easier you make it for us, the easier it will be for you," Osborne told him. "If you make us sweat, fitting this thing to you, we'll give you the limit. Don't forget that."
"I have done nothing," said Spatola, earnestly. "I have done nothing. And yet you keep me here. Is there not a law?"
"There is," said Osborne, grimly. "That's what I'm trying to tell you about. Now, who bought the bayonet?"
"The bayonet?" Spatola stared.
"The bayonet that Hume was killed with."
With a truly Latin gesture of despair, the Italian put his hands to his forehead.
"Always Hume," he said. "Always Hume! I can not be free of him. He was evil!" in a sort of shrill whisper. "Even when he is dead, I am mocked by him. He was all evil! I believe he was a devil!"
"That was no reason why you should kill him," said Osborne in the positive manner of the third degree.
"I did not kill him," protested Spatola. "There were many times when it was in my heart to do so. But I did not do it!"