"But it wer' o' no use. Ther' wer' a little chap at wer' persecutin', an' he looked that innercent yo'd ha' thowt ony sort o' a tale 'ud go dahn wi' him. But aw nivver wer' so mista'en i' a chap i' my life. He began to cross-question me mild as milk. He wanted to know what aw'd had for mi breakfast an' wheer aw took my ale an' a hundred thousand things, an' raked out th' whole history o' mi life awmost fra mi pap bottle up'ards, an' he twisted mi answers so, an' th' magistrates began to look at me as if aw wer th' worst specimen o' a criminal they'd ivver seen; an' he back'ards an' for'ards, lopin' like a flea fra this spot to that spot o' mi tale, till aw didn't know whether aw wer' stood o' mi head or mi heels. An' he looked at mi wi' an eye like a gimlet, an' for th' life o' me aw couldn't tak' mi e'en fra his, tho' aw'd ha' given owt to do it. An' then aw saw aw'd contradicted misen, not exactly a lie, but a bit o' a slip, an' aw saw he'd twigged it, an' aw saw he saw aw saw he'd twigged it; an' ther' come a quiet smile o' his lips, an' he looked at me as much as to say 'what a clever fool yo' are,' an' he played wi' me like a cat lakin' wi' a mouse, an' aw broke out into a sweat an' aw'd ha' swapped places wi' th' prisoner an' given summat to boot. Phew! it mak's me warm yet to think on it! It's risky wark is a haliby, aw tell yo', an chance it." "I suppose the Crown will rely mainly on the evidence of Ben Walker?" asked Mr. Webster. My father nodded assent. "But I think I have read that a man cannot be hanged on the unsupported testimony of an informer. If they have only Walker's evidence to go on, or indeed that of any other participator in the deed, the case may break down." "It's no go," said Jack. "There's others beside Ben o' Buck's ha' leaked. As soon as it wer' known he'd split there wer' a reg'lar scramble to turn informer. Everyone wer' anxious to be i' th' swim. There's Joe Sowden." "O' th' Yews?" I asked. Jack nodded. "Th' same felly." "Why what could he say?" "Th' story is that th' day after th' job wer' done, George went into th' croppin' shop, an' him an' Thorpe towd Sowden all about it." "What, that they had shot Mr. Horsfall?" exclaimed my father, in a voice of horror. "Nowt else. An' they made Sowden tak' a oath to keep th' secret an' sweer all th' others to keep th' secret. Everyone i' th' shop wer' sworn. There weren't a soul i' all John Wood's that weren't sworn. And folk say George held a pistol at Sowden's head while he read th' oath off a bit o' papper an' made 'em all kiss th' book." We stared at each other blankly. "But is this known to the Crown?" asked Mr. Webster at length.