"But we don't make evidence, my dear sir. There can be only one defence--an alibi. The man was shot, that's plain. It wasn't an accident, that's clear. Who ever did it, did it of malice prepense. There can only be an alibi. This young man now"--turning to me--"the prisoner was your cousin?" "Yes, sir." "And doubtless you were on good terms?" "The best." "And equally without doubt you saw a deal of each other?" "We did." "He visited you and you him?" "That's so." "And you remember the night of the--what day was it?" "Tuesday the 28th of April last." "And you remember that day?" "Only too well." "Now perhaps--I only say, perhaps, mark you--your cousin George spent the evening of that day in your company? A respectable young man like you--your word would go a long way." But I shook my head. No, I could not swear I was with George that fateful day. "Well, well, perhaps someone else can. I must see the prisoner, and when I've heard what he has to say, I shall be better able to judge what is best to be done. Another pinch, Mr. Bamforth? No? a bad habit, a bad habit, don't you begin it, young sir, but clears the brain. Good day--Jones, give Mr. Bamforth a receipt for £100. "Rex versus Mellor." Good day--we'll do our best, and a case is never lost till it's won." "Did' yo' notice th' books, Ben?" asked my father, as we crossed the street to the Boot and Shoe. "Wonderful isn't it? Aw dunnot wonder a man wants some snuff or summat to life th' weight o' all them books off his brain. Aw wonder how he crams it all in, for his yed's noan so much bigger nor other folk. Wonderful." When we got home that night we had to tell in detail all that we had said to Mr. Blackburn and all that Mr. Blackburn had said to us. Soldier Jack and Mr. Webster were of our council. "It's a tickle business is an alibi," Jack commented. "Them lawyers turn a chap inside out. Aw once tried to get a felly out o' a bit o' a mess afore th' justices at Bristol. He wer' one o' th' line an' had used his belt in a street broil. I went to swear him off." "I hope, Soldier, not to perjure yourself," said Mr. Webster earnestly. "Well not to say perjure," said Jack. "They say if yo' kiss yo'r thumb i'sted of th' Book, it's noan perjury. But aw did better nor that, aw'd a ready reckoner i' th' palm o' my hand, an' aw kissed that. So aw reckon aw wer' clear ony road." Mr. Webster sighed and shook his head.