“Dead sure; but see here, Simmonds, I haven’t time to tell you the whole story now; only I assure you, on my word, that I’ve evidence against the man which will convict him of one murder and perhaps of two. Is that enough?”
“Yes,” said Simmonds instantly, and he opened a drawer, from which he took a pistol and a pair of handcuffs. “All right,” he added, turning back to us.
“That’s good! Better have a lantern, too, though.”
“Think so?”
He took down a little dark lantern, lighted it, tested it, and put it in his pocket.
“Now I’m ready. Have we far to go?”
“Oh, no; just across the street.”
Simmonds started with astonishment “You don’t mean the Marathon!” he said.
“Just that.”
“But who is it we’re going after?”
“A fellow named Tremaine.”
“Tremaine!” Simmonds’s face grew blanker and blanker. “Why, I know him; he’s been in here to see me. He doesn’t seem at all the kind of fellow who would”
“So ho!” cried Godfrey. “It was you who told him about the clippings!”
Simmonds coloured to the eyes.
“Who told you that?” he stammered.
“No matter; it didn’t do any harm; played right into our hands, in fact. But you didn’t show your usual perspicacity there, Simmonds. That fellow is the most remarkable scoundrel I’ve ever run across
