"And I will prove it!" said Mother Gutch with sudden fierceness. "Touch the bell, and let me have another glass, and then I'll tell you. Now," she went on, more quietly—Spargo noticed that the more she drank, the more rational she became, and that her nerves seemed to gain strength and her whole appearance to be improved—"now, you came to her to find out about her brother-in-law, Maitland, that went to prison, didn't you?"
"Well?" demanded Spargo.
"And about that boy of his?" she continued.
"You heard all that was said," answered Spargo. "I'm waiting to hear what you have to say."
But Mother Gutch was resolute in having her own way. She continued her questions:
"And she told you that Maitland came and asked for the boy, and that she told him the boy was dead, didn't she?" she went on.
"Well?" said Spargo despairingly. "She did. What then?"
Mother Gutch took an appreciative pull at her glass and smiled knowingly. "What then?" she chuckled. "All lies, young man, the boy isn't dead—any more than I am. And my secret is"
"Well?" demanded Spargo impatiently. "What is it?"
"This!" answered Mother Gutch, digging her companion in the ribs, "I know what she did with him!"
