a chance of odd jobs at the early trains in the
mornin', which they're profitable if you ain't too
tired. They was talkin' and talkin', and the
oddest thing was that I knew they was
quarrellin', though I couldn't hear a word they said,
and I knew the other gent was a-sneerin' and a-
aggeravatin' of Mr. Routh, and yet they was
arm-in-arm all the time like brothers. They
went on, and there wasn't a livin' bein' in the
street but them and me and an odd p'liceman
or so, wot took no notice, only beat their 'ands
together and passed by. All on a sudden,
when they wos near the bridge, and close to all
the little narrow streets down there, I gets
tired, and don't seem to care about follerin' of
'em; and then, while I'm thinkin' of makin' for
the dry arch, I misses of 'em, and they're
gone."

The boy stood up now, and his cap fell
unheeded on the floor. The embarrassment, the
confusion, the vulgarity of his manner were
gone; he met the lawyer's piercing gaze
unabashed; he lifted his hand and moved it with
an expressive gesture.

"It was gettin' light overhead, and I was
tired, and my head begin to turn. I sat down
in a doorway; there wasn't no one to move me
on, and I must ha' fell asleep, for I don't
remember any more until I heard something pass
by me very quick, quite near me, as near as Mr.
Dallas passed me in the lane. I looked up
pretty smart, and, sir, it were a man."

"Mr. Routh?" asked the lawyer.

"Yes, sir, it were Mr. Routh. His head
were down, and he was goin' as quick as any
man could walk, short of runnin', but he did
not run. I roused up, and wondered where the
other gent was, and then I see a narrow
passage a little way off the doorway where I was a
settin', leadin' straight to the river. I thought
they must ha' turned down there to have their
talk out, when I missed them so sudden. I went
down the passage, and at the end of it was
stones and mud and the river; and there was
no one there. But oh, sir!" and here Jim
began to tremble and to look nervously round
towards Mr. Felton, " there were blood on the
edge of the stones, and footsteps in the mud
where the water was a-creepin' up, and there
was no one there."

A convulsive sob burst from Clare's lips;
but Mr. Felton clasped her closer to him, and
kept her quiet.

"A dreadful sight—a dreadful discovery,"
said Mr. Lowther; "but, my boy," and again
he touched Jim gently on the arm, " why did
you conceal it? Did you not understand the
crime that had been committed? Did you not
know all that happened afterwards?"

' Sir," said Jim, boldly, but not without an
effort, " I was not sure; I thought it might
have been a fight, and that ain't murder
anyways. I didn't know as how it had been
stabbin' until I see it in Lloyd's Weekly, for I
kep' away on purpose."

Here Jim put his hand into his pocket, and
drew it out again closed round some object
which he had still a lingering reluctance to
show.

"I'll tell you all the truth, sir, though I dare
say I must get into trouble. If it hadn't been as
I was afraid of gettin' into it, I should ha'
spoke before when I see Mrs. Routh, as is a
good lady, a-frettin' herself to death, and him
a-deceivin' of her. When I was a-lookin' close
at the stones and the mud, and the blood upon
'em, which the tide was very nigh upon it afore
I came away, I see somethin' nearly stamped
into the mud as looked like gold, and I fished it
out, and I knew it were somethin' as I had
seen hangin' on the other gent's chain, which he
was a-twiddlin' on it with his fingers when I
giv' him the note in the coffee-room. I fished
it out, sir, and I kep' it, and I was afraid to
take it to the pawnshop when I heerd as the
body was found; and as it were a murder,
I was afraid to sell it neither, and I hid it in
the wall, and—and," said Jim, speaking with
great rapidity and earnestness, " I am glad I've
told the truth, for Mr. Dallas's sake, and I'm
ready to suffer for it, if I must. Here it is,
sir." Then the boy unclosed his hand, and
placed in that of Mr. Lowther a locket in the
torm of a golden egg.

"It opens in the middle," said Jim, " and
there's pictures in it: one is Mr. Deane's, and,
the other is a lady's. I know where she lives,
and I saw Mr. Routh with her on Monday night.
Mr. Routh has another, just the same as tliis,
on the outside anyways."

"Do you recognise this trinket?" asked Mr.
Lowther of Mr. Felton, who replied:

"I do. It was my son's."

A few minutes of close and anxious consultation
between the gentlemen followed, and then
Mr. Lowther, telling Jim that he must remain
with Mr. Felton until his return, went out, and
was driven away in Mrs. Stanhope's carriage.
Mr. Felton and the two women treated the boy
with kind consideration. In the frightful position
in which they were all placed, there was
now a prospect of relief, not, indeed, from the
tremendous calamity, but from the dreadful
danger, and Jim, as the medium through which
the hope shone, was very valuable to them.
Food was given him, of a quality rare to the
street-boy, and he ate it with sufficient appetite.
Thus the time passed, until Mr. Lowther
returned, accompanied by a small, smart man in
a grey suit, who was no other than Mr. Tatlow,
and whose first words to Mr. Felton were:

"It's all right, sir. We've got the other
warrant."

Then Mr. Felton sent Clare and her cousin
away, and Jim, having been cheered and
consoled by many a reassuring word and promise
from Mr. Felton, whose strength and self-
control proved themselves to the utmost on this
occasion, underwent a long and searching
examination from Mr. Lowther and the
self-congratulatory Tatlow.

The afternoon was already advanced, and Mr.
Tatlow had gone away and returned again,