I took him by the arm, and suddenly wrenched his hand round, so that I could look at the palm of it; then I bent forward, and whispered to him swiftly: "There's blood on your hands!"
He struggled faintly for a moment to get free; his face had gone to a sickly green colour. "You're mad—stark, starin', ravin' mad!" he exclaimed. "Don't you say sich things against me, or I'll blab—sure as death!"
"Death's the word," I retorted. "Now, George Rabbit, we've got to talk over this thing, and we may as well do it quietly. Take me to some place where I can say what I have to say."
He hesitated for a moment, undecided whether to treat the matter with defiance, or to accede to my demands; at last he shrugged his shoulders, spat emphatically on the ground, and turned to lead the way. He turned back again a moment later, and looked at Andrew Ferkoe with a new resentment.
"Wot's this chap got to do wiv it?" he asked. "'Ave you bin blabbin' to 'im abaht it?"
"There was no necessity to do that," I replied quietly. "He saw you do it. Now, don't stand talking here; it might be dangerous."
He stood in an amazed silence for a moment, and then turned and walked away. We followed him rapidly, noticing that every now and then he turned to look back over his shoulder, as if undecided whether, after all, he would not turn back altogether, and refuse to go further. But he went on, nevertheless, and at last brought us to a little public house in a side street. Thrusting open a door with his shoulder, he went in, leaving us to follow; and we presently found ourselves in a little room with a sanded floor—a species of bar parlour. There the three of us sat down round a little beer-stained table, and after I had ordered refreshments (with a double quantity for George Rabbit, because he took the first at a gulp), I began to say what was in my mind.
"When I saw you first to-day you were looking at a house where an old man was murdered a few days back," I began.
"Wot of it?" he demanded. "A lot of people 'ave bin lookin' at that 'ouse; they always does w'en anythink like that's 'appened."
"You were obliged to go back to it—the man who commits a murder always must, you know. You wanted to see if any one had suspected you."