"It wur Tummas Reddy," he burst forth helplessly. "Lord ha' mercy on me!"
"Where is he?"
"He's i' theer," jerking his cap toward the bar-room, "an' I'm i' th' worst mess I ivver wur i' i' my loife. I'm fettlit now, by th' Lord Harry!"
"Which way does he go home?"
"Straight along the road here, if I mun get up to my neck—an'—an' be dom'd to him! if I may tak' th' liberty."
"Settle yourself to stand here till he comes out, and then tell me which is him."
"Eh!"
"When he comes out say the word, and stay here till he does. I've got a bit o' summat to settle with him."
"Will ta—will ta promise tha will na let out who did it? If tha does, th' buryin' club'll ha' brass to pay out afore a week's over."
"You're safe enow," Haworth answered, "if you'll keep your mouth shut. They'll hear nowt from me."
A gleam of hope—a faint one—illumined Mr. Briarley's countenance.
"I would na ha' no objections to tha settlin' wi' him," he said. "I ha' not nowt agen that. He's a chap as I am na fond on, an' he's gotten more cheek than belongs to him. I'd ha' settled wi' him mysen if I had na been a fam'ly man. Ha'in' a fam'ly to think on howds a man back. Theer—I hear 'em comin' now. Would yo,'" in some hurry, "ha' owt agen me gettin' behind th' pump?"
"Get behind it," answered Haworth, "and be damned to you!"
He got behind it with alacrity, and, as it was not a
