“Don’t mind telling what I know to be true,” replied Pegge. He looked the detective well over again. “I s’pose,” he went on, “I s’pose that if I tell you—something—I should have to tell it again—as a witness, like?”
“All depends on what it is, Pegge,” answered Blick. “You might—if it’s very important. Or, you mightn’t—if it’s merely something that you want to tell me, between ourselves. Anyway, whatever it is, you’ll come to no harm—so long as you speak the plain truth.”
“Them witnesses, now?” suggested Pegge. “Before crowners, and magistrates, and judges at the ’sizes—are they protected? Nobody can’t do nothing at ’em for telling what they know, eh?”
“Strictly protected, in every way,” said Blick, with emphatic decision. “Bad job for anybody who interfered with a witness, Pegge! Make yourself comfortable on that point, my lad.”
Pegge nodded, took another mouthful of ale, and seemed to make up his mind.
“Well, I do know something!” he said suddenly. “I was half in a mind to tell it this morning, up there at the inquest——”
“You were there?” asked Blick.
“Most of the time,” assented Pegge. “I heard all that Grimsdale said, anyhow. It was along of what he said that I thought of coming forward, d’ye see, but I didn’t exactly know what to do, and so, when I hear ’em talk about an adjournment, I thought I’d put it off, and think matters over. However, when I hear you were stopping here to look after things, I thought I’d mention it to you, like.”
“Quite right, Pegge—much obliged to you,” said Blick. “Make yourself easy. And now—what is it?”
Pegge removed his pipe from his lips, and leaned a little nearer to his listener.