“We want a word with you,” said the officer.
The man eyed them with dismay. “I never thout ’at he’d come to thee,” he said.
“The chap you brought in this morning?”
“Ay, sure.”
“Happen yes and happen no,” the policeman replied. “What’s it all about?”
“If he says I took his eauts he be a leear. I wurna wi’ the sack, not to say alone ’at is, not five minutes, and yo’ may look at t’ sack and see all’s theer as ever was! Never a handfu’ missing, tho’ the chap he cursed and swore an’ took on, the mout ha’ been eauts o’ gowd! He’s a leear iv he says I tetched ’em, but I never thout he’d t’ brass to come to thee.”
“Why not, lad?”
“’Cause i’ the end he let up and steared at t’ sack leek a steck pig, and then he fell a shriking ’i worse shap than ever, and away he goes as iv a dog had bit him and down t’ Long Gate hell for leather!”
“Which way? I see. Did he take the oats?”
“Not he, nor t’ bag. An after mekking setch a din about his eauts! I war no wi’ ’em five minutes.”