"'Tis Squire Banks's day," whispered Haylock as they passed him at the door. "He baint such a hanging judge, so to speak it, as Sir Timothy."
Noakes gave his evidence, Smail corroborated it, and Squire Banks asked the culprits what they had to say in their defence.
"It was like this, sir," began Eves, before Templeton could start; "my friend Templeton devotes a lot of time to trying experiments—working out ideas for useful inventions. When he heard of that accident to a flying man the other day"—the old gentleman looked interested—"he kept me awake at night talking over an idea for making an aeroplane automatically safe. I confess I was sceptical, and it's my fault all this happened, because it was to prove his theory to me that he made a glider; it cost him over £7, sir; and we couldn't find a better place to try it on than that hilly field. I'm afraid I was clumsy; at any rate, the thing came to grief——"
"But the principle of it is quite sound," Templeton put in.
"But, of course, you're not concerned with principles here, sir, but only with law," Eves went on. "We didn't know the field belonged to Mr. Noakes, or I assure you we wouldn't have touched it with a pole, and as to damage, my friend offered to pay any reasonable sum."
"But didn't I understand that you caused the damage?" the squire interposed, his eyes twinkling. "That being the case, ought not the offer to pay have come from you?"
"I'm afraid it ought, sir; but—well, I've only got four and elevenpence halfpenny."
There were smiles in the court at this ingenuous confession.
"Well, Mr. Templeton offered to pay," the squire went on. "What then?"
"Mr. Noakes wouldn't hear of it, sir," Eves answered.