I? But none of you would believe me. Now you
can see as I was right."

"It's very strange," ses Henery Walker, looking round; "it's very strange
that all of us wot's been shot belonged to Bob Pretty's precious club."

"It's my luck, Henery," ses Bob, "always was lucky from a child."

"And I s'pose you think you're going to 'ave arf of the money they get?"
ses Henery Walker.

"Don't talk about money while them pore chaps is suffering," ses Bob.
"I'm surprised at you, Henery."

"You won't 'ave a farthing of it," ses Henery Walker; "and wot's more,
Bob Pretty, I'm going to 'ave my five pounds back."

"Don't you believe it, Henery," ses Bob, smiling at 'im.

"I'm going to 'ave my five pounds back," ses Henery, "and you know why.
I know wot your club was for now, and we was all a pack o' silly fools
not to see it afore."

"Speak for yourself, Henery," ses John Biggs, who thought Henery was
looking at 'im.

"I've been putting two and two together," ses Henery, looking round, "and
it's as plain as the nose on your face. Bob Pretty hid up in the wood
and shot us all himself!"

For a moment you might 'ave heard a pin drop, and then there was such a
noise nobody could hear theirselves speak. Everybody was shouting his
'ardest, and the on'y quiet one there was Bob Pretty 'imself.

"Poor Henery; he's gorn mad," he ses, shaking his 'ead.

"You're a murderer," ses Ralph Thomson, shaking 'is fist at him.

"Henery Walker's gorn mad," ses Bob agin. "Why, I ain't been near the
place. There's a dozen men'll swear that I was at Wickham each time
these misfortunate accidents 'appened."

"Men like you, they'd swear anything for a pot o' beer," ses Henery.
"But I'm not going to waste time talking to you, Bob Pretty. I'm going
straight off to tell Mr. Sutton."

"I shouldn't do that if I was you, Henery," ses Bob.

"I dessay," ses Henery Walker; "but then you see I am."

"I thought you'd gorn mad, Henery," ses Bob, taking a drink o' beer that
somebody 'ad left on the table by mistake, "and now I'm sure of it. Why,
if you tell Mr. Sutton that it wasn't his friends that shot them pore
fellers he won't pay them anything. 'Tain't likely 'e would, is it?"

Henery Walker, wot 'ad been standing up looking fierce at 'im, sat down
agin, struck all of a heap.

"And he might want your ten pounds back, Henery," said Bob in a soft
voice. "And seeing as 'ow you was kind enough to give five to me, and
spent most of the other,