'Tell me about that mysterious affair of "Tom the Scholar," and Jack Jefferson's sudden death, and how you ran him to ground when suspicion had given up the chase. If all I have heard is true, you ought to have been at Bow Street, high up in the Criminal Investigation Department. Tell me,' I said again, 'how you came to play the part of amateur detective.' 'There was nowt o' the ammytoor aboot it,' retorted 'the Heckler' with aggressive dignity, 'it was a proper perfessional bit o' wark, an' the pollis was fine put oot that they hadn't had a hand in it. Wey, there was Scott, wor pollis; he came to us an' he says, "If ye had only tell't me about it I could hev made a job on 't," says he, "'stead o' lettin' him gan an' commit a fellor, d' y' see?" '"No," says I, "I divvn't see; it was him that done it, an' it was us as copped him, an' if I hadn't taken it intiv hand, wey, thoo would have still been usin' long words an' followin' up yor clue like an aad blind man followin' efter his dog," says I, "for I've no sort o' notion o' the pollis; they nivvor finds out nowt for themselves, ye hev elwis ti tell them what it is ye want done, an' then at the finish gan an' do it yorsel'." 'No, no; the pollis is just what the lawyer chaps call "accessories efter the fac'"--meanin' they comes up ti ye when aal's ower an' done wi', like the bairns at the school-sports, each one expectin' a prize. 'Well, as I was sayin', I copped "Tom the Scholar" aal maa lane, an' I doot whether anyone else could hev done it but me. I had suspected him a while back, for he was a mistetched[4] chap, ye ken, one o' the sort that has a bit grudge against everythin', an' vicious same as horses is sometimes, unforgettin', unforgivin'--just a nasty disagreeable beggor, ye ken. 'He was a scholar, though--"Tom the Scholar" they called him--an' was aye busy wi' books, nivvor had his head oot o' them, whether at the Institute or at aad Mistress Swan's, where he lodged. 'Efter a bit he takes up wi' courtin' Mary Straughan, her who got married on Jack Jefferson, an' I b'lieve she had a mind for him once, but not for long, for he frightened her biv his strange ways, an' a passionate way o' talk he had, an' she gave up walkin' wiv him an' took up wi' Jack instead--a south-country chap that had come frae Yorkshire--a big, burly, thick-headed sort o' chap, but tarr'ble good-natured. 'Well, Tom, he takes it varry badly, an' just before they gets "called" i' church he tarrifies Mary wi' vague threats as ti what'll happen if she dares ti wed wi' Jack. Noo, Tom was a "spirritualist," ye ken, as weel as a scholar, an' he swears that the spirits forbade the match, an' would be properly savage if they was disobliged.