He seemed to be taking a good deal of time to tell what he had seen, and I tried to hurry him up. He laughed, then said:
“Well, yesterday afternoon about five o'clock I went after berries. You don't live here, so I'll tell you where I went. I went in the fields back of Mr. Warren's house. Right back of the stone wall that goes round his place is a big swamp. 'Twas a swamp once, but it's some filled in now; and across from it are a lot of berries.”
He paused to pat the Airedale, so I asked:
“Yes, I see what you mean; but what did you see?”
“Nothing much. Did not think about it till I heard those questions in Court, those questions to Jimmy Weedon about seeing any one on the grounds. Then I got to thinking about the man I saw.”
As he paused for breath, I told him to go on, and he continued:
“Just about six—I know it was about six, for the whistles blew a minute or so afterwards, I saw a man climb over the wall—that stone wall of Mr. Warren's. He threw something in the bushes while he was on the wall.”
“Do you know who the man was?” came my eager question.
The boy was thoughtful a moment, his face screwed up in a funny gesture. Then he shook his head saying:
“No, I don't. He looked like somebody I know; but I can't tell who he was.”