The proprietor bowed obsequiously, and inquired after Mr. Blount's health, and would "he have something?" Before Blount could reply Jaggers relieved the suspense by coming from the back room and joining him at the bar.
"Have you a room where we can have a quiet drink?" asked Blount, of the one-eyed proprietor.
"Yes, sir! Cert'nly, sir! Here Mike!" (to one of the waiters), "show the gentleman to the parlor! What shall I send ye, Mr. Blount?"
"Nothing," replied Blount, shortly, "and see that you keep this den a little more quiet hereafter or you'll rue it!"
"Yes, sir! I will——" and as he passed out of hearing—"D—— you! I'd like to wring yer neck!"
Up-stairs Blount ordered a pot of ale for Jaggers and "a little gin" for himself and then settling back in his chair invited his companion to "fire away," which he did to the following effect.
The old man, who was known to him as Gorman, had for several years been his best friend, and had often, after they had become intimate, hinted at the possession of a secret which would one day make him rich. Finally one day, about six months previous to the murder, he told Jaggers that he had found a man through whom he could convert his secret into cash. Later, and only shortly before the murder, he told Jaggers that he was beginning to be afraid of his man, "and so," said Jaggers in conclusion, "he told me he had valuable papers which a chap named Hall wanted so he could marry the girl an' get the tin. He didn't know where she lived, but this 'ere Hall did, an' it wos Manchester he got a ticket for every time."
This was Jaggers' story and confirming his theory in every respect—yet how could he connect him with the crime? The locket was the only thing he had, and that seemed worthless. Hall appeared to have had no intimate friends who would be likely to recognize it, or rather the photograph in it. Again, Hall, guilty or not, had slipped through his fingers like quicksilver.