James Ryan: Bad as he is, I wouldn’t like to be an informer against any man.
(All hurry away except Mrs. Tarpey, who remains behind her stall. Enter magistrate and policeman.)
Magistrate: I knew the district was in a bad state, but I did not expect to be confronted with a murder at the first fair I came to.
Policeman: I am sure you did not, indeed.
Magistrate: It was well I had not gone home. I caught a few words here and there that roused my suspicions.
Policeman: So they would, too.
Magistrate: You heard the same story from everyone you asked?
Policeman: The same story—or if it was not altogether the same, anyway it was no less than the first story.
Magistrate: What is that man doing? He is sitting alone with a hayfork. He has a guilty look. The murder was done with a hayfork!
Policeman: (In a whisper.) That’s the very man they say did the act; Bartley Fallon himself!