ntendent Hawthwaite of your discovery and hand the
machine to him?"

"Yes, sir; both."

"Did he have the machine wrapped and sealed up in your presence?"

"He did, sir."

"This machine, now on the table?"

"That machine, sir."

"And this is the machine that the prisoner, Simon Crood, brought himself
to Green & Polford's?"

"That's the machine, sir."

Meeking nodded to his witness, signifying that he had no more to ask,
but before Owthwaite could leave the box, Stedman, the local solicitor
with whom Simon Crood had held a whispered conversation on coming into
court, rose and began to cross-examine him.

"Did you happen to be in Green & Polford's shop--the front shop, I
mean--when Alderman Crood brought in that machine?" he asked.

"I was there at the time, sir," replied Owthwaite.

"Did he come quite openly?"

"Yes, sir. In a cab, as a matter of fact. The cabman carried in the
machine."

"Did Alderman Crood say who he was?"

"Well, sir, to be exact, he saw me as soon as he came in, and recognized
me. He said, 'Oh, a Hathelsborough lad, I see? You'll know me, young
man.' Then he told Mr. Jeaveson and myself what he wanted."

"The whole business was quite open and above-board, then?"

"Quite so, sir."

"He drew your attention himself to the defects of the machine?"

"He did, sir."

"And this was after--not before--that facsimile appeared in the
_Monitor_?"

"After, sir."

"Now I want a particularly careful answer, Owthwaite, to my next
question. Did Alderman Crood ask you to get these repairs made
immediately?"

"No, sir, he did not. He said he was in no hurry."

"You were to take your own time about them, the machine remaining with
you?"

"Just that, sir."

Stedman sat down, as if satisfied, and Owthwaite left the witness-box.
At the calling of the next witness's name Tansley nudged Brent.

"Now we may hear something lively!" he whispered. "This chap's been the
Borough Accountant for some years, and I've often wondered if he doesn't
know a good deal that he's kept to himself. But, if he does, will he let
it out? Old Crood doesn't look over pleased to see him anyway!"

Brent glanced from the new witness, a quiet, reserved-looking man of
middle age, to Simon Crood. There was a dark scowl on the heavy
features, and, Brent fancied, a look of apprehension. Once more Simon
beckoned to his solicitor and exchanged a few whispered words with him
across the front of the dock before turning to t