“Spike Adams, that’s his name, mister.”

“And what’s your name?” demanded Rollison.

“I—I don’t ‘ave to tell yer my name, do I?” asked the little man, in a wheedling tone, “I’ve told yer the names of the others. Gimme a break. I never did nothing, I only drifted along with Spike, that’s all.”

“When you’ve given me your name and waited for half an hour, you can go,” said Rollison.

“You mean that?” The man’s little eyes lit up.

“Yes,” said Rollison—and released a flood of talk.

“My name’s “Arris, mister, Tom “Arris. I live dahn in River Row, everyone knows Tom “Arris—me name’s an ‘ouseold word. Never beaten, I wasn’t. Had two hundred and two fights an’ never beaten, that’s me. I’m dahn on me luck, mister,” went on Harris in maudlin tones. “I wouldn’t have done such a thing as I done tonight if I ‘adn’t been. A quid means a lot to me an’ I never knew what Spike was going to do. That’s Gawd’s truth.”

“I don’t think!” said Rollison. “Go and sit on the stage and don’t move until I tell you to.”

“Me wife’ll be expecting me,” declared Harris, pleadingly, “I promised I wouldn’t be no later than one o’clock. You wouldn’t let a woman be left alone at night these days, would you?”

“Some women, gladly,” said Rollison. “Get on the stage.”

Harris shrugged his shoulders and slouched off.

“Keep an eye on him,” Rollison said, sotto voce, “he might start throwing the chairs about.”

He spoke loudly enough for the man on the floor to hear, if he were conscious, and stepped towards the other wall. The man bounded to his feet and darted for the door. Rollison picked up a chair and threw it so that the man went sprawling.

“Now, Spike,” said Rollison, chidingly. “Foxing won’t help you. He strolled over to the man, who made no further attempt to get up, and smiled at him. “So Harry Keller sent you, did he?”

Adams glared up.

“So you’re not a talker, like Harris?” said Rollison, “I suppose I couldn’t expect to find two on the same night.” He glanced at Kemp who was trying to watch him and keep an eye on Harris at the same time. “I don’t think we need worry about this customer, do you? The police will look after him, he’ll probably get twelve months for using the cosh.”