his brother affirmed that it was only thirty-five pounds thirteen
shillings--upon which they came to blows; his brother, when struck by
the prisoner, having returned the blow, and knocked the prisoner down.
They were then separated by their friends, who interposed, and, as the
cause of the dispute was so trifling, it was proposed that it should be
spent in drink, each contributing one-half. To this both assented, and
the parties having commenced drinking, did not confine themselves to
the amount disputed, but drank on until they became somewhat tipsy, and
were, with difficulty, kept from quarrelling again. The last words he
heard from them that night were, as far as he can remember--"Dalton,"
said his brother, "you have no more brains than the pillar of a gate."
Upon which the other attempted to strike him, and, on being prevented,
he shook his stick at him, and swore that "before he slept he'd know
whether he had brains or not." Their friends then took them different
ways, he was separated from them, and knows nothing further about what
happened. He never saw his brother alive afterwards. He then deposed to
the finding of his coat and hat, each in a crushed and torn state. The
footmarks in the corner of the field were proved to have been those of
his brother and the prisoner, as the shoes of each exactly fitted them
when tried. He was then asked how it could be possible, as his brother
had altogether disappeared, to know whether his shoes fitted the
foot-prints or not, to which he replied, that one of his shoes was found
on the spot the next morning, and that a second pair, which he had at
home, were also tried, and fitted precisely.

The next witness was Rody Duncan, who deposed that on the night in
question, he was passing on a car, after having sold a load of oats in
the market. On coming to the corner of the field, he saw a man drag or
carry something heavy like a sack, which, on seeing him, Rody, he (the
man,) left hastily inside the ditch, and stooped, as if to avoid being
known. He asked the person what he was about, who replied that, "he
hoped he was no gauger;" by which he understood that he was concerned
in private distillation, and that it might have been malt; an opinion in
which he was confirmed, on hearing the man's voice, which he knew to be
that of the prisoner, who had been engaged in the poteen work for some
years. One thing struck him, which he remembered afterwards, that
the prisoner had a hat in his