"Sowden's takin' his tea at this minnit i' Chester Castle, livin' o' th' fat o' th' land, a guest o' th' king, feastin' like a fightin' cock, an' yo'll nivver set eyes on him agen till yo see him i' th' witness-box at York 'sizes," said Jack. "An' there's more to tell. They say George borrowed a Russian pistol fra William Hall." "Well, I'll vouch for Hall, ony road, for all awm worth," I burst out. "He'll noan turn traitor. He wer' allus th' keenest o' th' lot on us." "Tha'd lose thi brass," said Jack quietly. "Hall's sat just nah opposite Sowden, like as not drinkin' success to honesty. He lent his pistol to George the very day Horsfall wer' shot, an' seed him load it with ball an' slugs." "Why Hall lodged at Wood's an' slept wi' George, i' th' same room if not i' th' same bed," I murmured. "Skin for shin, yea all that a man hath will he give for his fife,' so says the Book." Thus Mr. Webster. "And after Horsfall wer' shot, choose who shot him," Jack went on. "George Mellor an' Thorpe went to Joe Mellor's at Dungeon Wood an' hid two pistols, an' one on 'em, they do say, is th' self-same pistol 'at Hall lent to George afore th' job wer' done." I do not know whether any of us till then, clung to a hope that George might be cleared of any share in the murder. For my own part I had known from the first minute I set eyes on George when he came to me at Holme the day after the deed, known without a word spoken, that he was guilty. All the same the law's the law, and it was none of my business to tell what I thought. Thinking's not evidence, and if there was a loop-hole for him anywhere I'd widen it for him rather than stop it. "All the evidence points one way," said Mr. Webster despondently. "Oh, no! it doesn't, beggin' yo'r pardon for contradictin' yo'," said Jack. "There's plenty think George 'll scrape through." "As how?" I asked. "Why on th' halibey. Mr. Blackburn 'll have summat to go on. Yo' know John Womersley, th' watch maker' i' Cloth Hall Street?" "Aye, aye." "Well he says he wer' talkin' wi' George just after six bi th' clock opposite th' Cloth Hall, an' had a glass wi' him at th' White Hart." "Well?" "Why it wer' just on six when Mr. Horsfall wer' shot on Crosland Moor, an' if George were i' th' White Hart at hauf past six, it stan's to reason he couldn't be shootin' folk on th' moor at six." "Womersley's a decent man, and his word will have weight," said my father with relief in his tone. "Perhaps we've been misjudgin' the lad after all." "Let's hope so," said Soldier. "An' like enough others 'll turn up 'at can give similar evidence. But it's a tickle job is a halibey, best o' times." And so our council ended, Jack engaging to search high and low for any scrap of testimony that might help the prisoners.