Gray looked up at him with a pleasant smile.
"What did you say?"
Gray was beginning to feel thoroughly satisfied with himself again. He felt himself very much more than a match for Mr. Lumley.
That individual made no reply to his last inquiry.
"So you want to know how I got on this job. I'll tell you quickly enough. Dearing made a dying speech and confession, didn't he?"
"Something of the kind."
"He'd do that for sure and certain. That was his way. He was always half-hearted, Tom was. P'r'aps he didn't mention a pal of his, Bill Clay, eh?"
"I think he did, now I come to think of it. I suppose you are that gentleman. Is Clay your real name, or one of your many aliases?"
"You're right, mate. I'm Bill Clay, as you'll find out before you're done with me," said Lumley, with a savage look. "I wasn't in that business with the bank, but Tom told me he'd hidden the money; but he didn't tell me where he'd hid it, d'you see. You've got to tell me that, Mr. Gentleman Gray."
Gray leisurely took his cigar from his mouth and said: