“And you know this man!”
“No; I never saw him before in my life.”
“That’s a lie, John Timmins, and you know it,” broke in the burglar audaciously.
“Is your name John Timmins?” asked the policeman with increased suspicion.
“No, sir. My name is Victor Wentworth.”
“Good, John. It does credit to your invention,” said the burglar laughing. “That’s a high-toned name you’ve got now.”
“Is this true that you are saying? Do you know the boy?”
“Of course I do. His father, Dick Timmins, is my pal. I thought we could trust the boy, but he’s betrayed me, the young rascal, expectin’ a reward for his honesty. Oh, he’s a sly one, John is.”
Victor could hardly believe his ears. He understood at once that this man was acting from revengeful motives, but he saw also that the story made an impression on the police.