y^ 
 
 T 
 
 /
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 PATIENCE WINS. 
 
 ^^^^
 
 CONCERNING MR. O. MANVILLE FENN 
 
 THE PRESS SAYS: 
 
 "Our boys know Mr. Fenn well, his stories having won for him a fore- 
 most place in their estimation." — I'all Mall Gazette. 
 
 "Mr. Manville Fenn may be regarded as the successor in boyhood's 
 affections of Captain Mayne Reid." — Academy. 
 
 " Who can tvrite a better boy's book, or zvho can point a finer moral, than 
 George Manville J'Vnn?"— Schoolmaster. 
 
 "Mr. George Manville Fenn rs amongst the few authors 7vho can write 
 such books as strike the fancy of intelligent lads. He has a bright, cheery, 
 manly style, ivhich takes ivith the youngsters; his stories are never dull, 
 and he never 'preaches,' or if he does it is in such a fashion that the lads 
 do not detect it." — Nottingham Journal. 
 
 " Sfr. Fenn has much of the inventiveness of the tvell-knoion French 
 writer Jules Verne; indeed, he is in the front rank of writers of stories for 
 boys. Parents sjyecially ought to be very thankful to him for providing 
 their sons with so much wholesome and fascinating amusement in the way 
 of literature."— lAv erpool Mercury. 
 
 /
 
 '•LUCKY YOW WEERN'T THEER," SAID STEVENS.
 
 PATIEI^CE WINS 
 
 OR WAR IN THE WORKS. 
 
 BY 
 
 G. MANVILLE FENN 
 
 Author of " Bunyip Land ; " "The Golden Magnet;" "Menhardoc;" "Brownsmith's Boy ; " 
 " In the King's Name ; " " Nat the Naturalist ; " &c. &c. 
 
 WITH SIX PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 NEW EDITION. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 BLACKIE & SON, Limited, 50 OLD BAILEY, E.O. 
 
 GLASGOW AND DUBLIN
 
 W639 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Chap. Page 
 
 I. A Family Council 9 
 
 II. A Fiery Place, 17 
 
 III. A Bad Beginning, 27 
 
 IV. Our Engine, 40 
 
 V. A Night of Anxiety, 53 
 
 VI. "Do LET me come," 66 
 
 VII. A USEFUL Ally, 82 
 
 VIII. On Guard, 91 
 
 IX. Drowning an Enemy, 106 
 
 X. '"Night, Mate," 116 
 
 XL Pannell's Pet, 122 
 
 XII. Pannell's Secret, 133 
 
 XIII. Only a Glass of Water, 142 
 
 XIV. Uncle Bob's Patient, 152 
 
 XV. I have an Idea, 175 
 
 XVI. Something for Me 184 
 
 XVII. My Travelling Companion, 194 
 
 XVIII. Against the Law, 207 
 
 XIX. Pannell says Nothing, 222 
 
 XX. A CoMPAi^ioN IN Trouble, 234 
 
 XXI. What I Caught and Heard, 251 
 
 XXII. Stevens has a Word with Me, 270 
 
 XXIII. I START FOR A WaLK, 283 
 
 XXIV. Uncle Jack and I have a Run, 298 
 
 XXV. A Terrible Risk, 316 
 
 XXVI. Fire and Water, 333 
 
 XXVII. Eight Years later, 345 
 
 rynA O^.'f A
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Page 
 "Lucky yow weern't theer," said Stevens, . . Frontis. 275 
 
 "Piter made a dash at their Legs," . 87 
 
 A Talk with Pannell the Smith 140 
 
 Cob's Adventure on the Railway, . . . , 202 
 
 A Plunge into the Wheel-pit, 233 
 
 Cob hunted by the Arrowpield Mob . 287
 
 PATIENCE WINS: 
 
 OR WAR IN THE WORKa 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A FAMILY COUNCIL. 
 
 SAY, Uncle Dick, do tell me what sort of a 
 place it is." 
 
 "Oh, you'll see when you get there!" 
 "Uncle Jack, you tell me then; what's 
 it like?" 
 
 " Like! What, Arrowfield? Ask Uncle Bob." 
 "There, Uncle Bob, I'm to ask you. Do tell me 
 what sort of a place it is ? " 
 
 " Get out, you young nuisance!" 
 " What a shame ! " I said. " Here are you three great 
 clever men, who know all about it; you've been down 
 half a dozen times, and yet you won't answer a civil 
 question when you are asked." 
 
 I looked in an ill-used way at my three uncles, as 
 they sat at the table covered with papers; and except 
 that one would be a little darker than the other, I 
 could not help thinking how very much they were 
 alike, and at the same time like my father, only that
 
 10 MY UNCLES. 
 
 he had some gray coming at the sides of his head. 
 They were all big fine-looking men between thirty 
 and forty, stern enough when they were busy, but 
 wonderfully good-tempered and full of fun when 
 business was over; and I'm afraid they spoiled me. 
 
 When, as I say, business was over, they were ready 
 for anything with me, and though I had a great feeling 
 of reverence, almost dread, for my father, my three big 
 uncles always seemed to me like companions, and they 
 treated me as if I were their equal. 
 
 Cricket! Ah! many's the game we've had together. 
 They'd take me fishing, and give me the best pitch, 
 and see that I caught fish if they did not. 
 
 Tops, marbles, kite-flying, football; insect and egg 
 collecting; geology, botany, chemistry; they were at 
 home with all, and I shared in the game or pursuit as 
 eagerly as they. 
 
 I've known the time when they'd charge into the 
 room at Canonbury, where I was busy with the private 
 tutor — for I did not go to school — with " Mr. Headley, 
 Mr. Russell would like to speak to you;" and as soon 
 as he had left the room, seize hold of me, and drag me 
 out of my chair with, " Come along. Cob: work's closed 
 for the day. Country!" 
 
 Then away we'd go for a delicious day's collecting, 
 or something of the kind. 
 
 They used to call it slackening their bands, and 
 mine. 
 
 Time had glided on very happily till I was sixteen, 
 and there was some talk of my being sent to a great 
 engineer's establishment for five or six years to learn 
 all I could before being taken on at our own place in 
 Bermondsey, where Russell & Company carried on 
 business, and knocked copper and brass and tin about,
 
 ABOUT ARROWFIELD. 11 
 
 and made bronze, and gun-metal, and did a great deal 
 for other firms with furnaces, and forges, and steam- 
 engines, wheels, and lathes. 
 
 My father was "Russell" — Alexander — and Uncle 
 Dick, Uncle Jack, and Uncle Bob were " Company." 
 The business, as I say, was in Bermondsey, but we lived 
 together and didn't live together at Canonbury. 
 
 That sounds curious, but I'll explain: — We had two 
 houses next door to each other. Captain's quarters, 
 and the barracks. 
 
 My father's house was the Captain's quarters, where 
 I lived with my mother and sister. The next door, 
 where my uncles were, they called the barracks, where 
 they had their bed-rooms and sitting-room; but they 
 took all their meals at our table. 
 
 As I said before things had gone on very happily till 
 I was sixteen — a big sturdy ugly boy. 
 
 Uncle Dick said I was the ugliest boy he knew. 
 
 Uncle Jack said I was the most stupid. 
 
 Uncle Bob said I was the most ignorant. 
 
 But we were the best of friends all the same. 
 
 And now after a great deal of discussion with my 
 father, and several visits, my three uncles were seated 
 at the table, and I had asked them about Arrowfield, 
 and you have read their answers. 
 
 I attacked them again. 
 
 " Oh, I say," I cried, " don't talk to a fellow as if he 
 were a little boy ! Come, Uncle Dick, what sort of a 
 place is Arrowfield?" 
 
 " Land of fire." 
 
 " Oh !" I cried. " Is it, Uncle Jack ?" 
 
 " Land of smoke." 
 
 " Land of fire and smoke!" I cried excitedly. "Uncle 
 Bob, are they making fun of me?"
 
 12 NOT boys' business. 
 
 " Land of noise, and gloom, and fog," said Uncle Bob. 
 "A horrible place in a hole." 
 
 "And are we going there?" 
 
 " Don't know," said Uncle Bob. " Wait and see." 
 
 They went on with their drawings and calculations, 
 and I sat by the fire in the barrack room, that is, in 
 their sitting-room, trying to read, but with my head 
 in a whirl of excitement about Arrowfield, when my 
 father came in, laid his hand on my head, and turned 
 to my uncles. 
 
 " Well, boys," he said, " how do you bring it in ? 
 What's to be done ? " 
 
 " Sit down, and let's settle it, Alick," said Uncle 
 Dick, leaning back and spreading his big beard all 
 over his chest. 
 
 "Ah, do!" cried Uncle Jack, rubbing his curly head. 
 
 " Once and for all," said Uncle Bob, drawing his 
 chair forward, stooping down, taking up his left leg 
 and holdinfj it across his rio^ht knee. 
 
 My father drew forward an easy-chair, looking very 
 serious, and resting his hand on the back before sitting 
 down, he said without looking at me: 
 
 " Go to your mother and sister, Jacob." 
 
 I rose quickly, but with my forehead wrinkling all 
 over, and I turned a pitiful look on my three uncles. 
 
 "What are you going to send him away for?" said 
 Uncle Dick. 
 
 " Because this is not boys' business." 
 
 "Oh, nonsense!" said Uncle Jack. "He'll be as 
 interested in it as we are." 
 
 " Yes, let him stop and hear," said Uncle Bob. 
 
 " Very good. I'm agreeable," said my father. " Sit 
 down, Jacob." 
 
 I darted a grateful look at my uncles, spreading it
 
 DEBATING THE CAMPAIGN. 13 
 
 round so that they all had a glance, and dropped back 
 into my seat. 
 
 "Well," said my father, "am I to speak?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 This was in chorus; and my father sat thinking for 
 a few minutes, during which I exchanged looks and 
 nods with my uncles, all of which was very satisfactory. 
 
 " Well," said my father at last, " to put it in short, 
 plain English, we four have each our little capital 
 embarked in our works." 
 
 Here there were three nods. 
 
 " We've all tried everything we knew to make the 
 place a success, but year after year goes by and we 
 find ourselves worse off. In three more bad years we 
 shall be ruined." 
 
 " And Jacob will have to set to work and keep us 
 all," said Uncle Dick. 
 
 My father looked round at me and nodded, smiling 
 sadly, and I could see that he was in great trouble. 
 
 "Here is our position, then, boys: Grandison k> Co. 
 are waiting for our answer in Bermondsey. They'll 
 buy everything as it stands at a fair valuation; that's 
 one half. The other is: the ag-ents at Arrowfield are 
 waiting also for our answer about the works to let 
 there." 
 
 Here he paused for a few moments and then went 
 on: 
 
 " We must look the matter full in the face. If we 
 stay as we are the trade is so depreciating that we 
 shall be ruined. If we go to Arrowfield we shall have 
 to begin entirely afresh; to fight against a great many 
 difiiculties; the workmen there are ready to strike, to 
 turn upon you and destroy." 
 
 Uncle Dick made believe to spit in his hands.
 
 14 THE RISKS TO RUN. 
 
 " To commit oiitrasres." 
 
 Uncle Jack tucked up his sleeves. 
 
 " And ratten and blow up." 
 
 Uncle Bob half took off his coat. 
 
 "In short, boys, we shall have a terribly hard fight; 
 but there is ten times the opening there, and we may 
 make a great success. That is our position, in short," 
 said my father. " What do you say ? " 
 
 My three uncles looked hard at him and then at one 
 another, seemed to read each other's eyes, and turned 
 back to him. 
 
 "You're oldest, Alick, and head of the firm," said 
 Uncle Dick; "settle it." 
 
 " No," said my father, " it shall be settled by you 
 three." 
 
 " I know what I think," said Uncle Jack ; " but I'd 
 rather you'd say." 
 
 " My mind's made up," said Uncle Bob, " but I don't 
 want to be speaker. You settle it, Alick." 
 
 "No," said my father; "1 have laid the case before 
 you three, who have equal stakes in the risk, and you 
 shall settle the matter." 
 
 There was a dead silence in the room, which was so 
 still that the sputtering noise made by the big lamp 
 and the tinkle of a few cinders that fell from the fire 
 sounded painfully loud. They looked at each other, 
 but no one spoke, till Uncle Dick had fidgeted about 
 in his chair for some time, and then, giving his big 
 beard a twitch, he bent forward. 
 
 I heard my other uncles sigh as if they were relieved, 
 and they sat back farther in their seats listening for 
 what Uncle Dick, who was the eldest, might wish to 
 say. 
 
 " Look here," he cried at last.
 
 (( T fT'o ATT rtr\ " 
 
 LETS ALL GO. 15 
 
 Everybody did look there, but saw nothing but 
 Uncle Dick, who kept tugging at one lock of his beard, 
 as if that was the string that would let loose a whole 
 shower-bath of words. 
 
 " Well!" he said, and there was another pause. 
 
 " Here," he cried, as if seized by a sudden fit of 
 inspiration, " let's hear what Cob has to say." 
 
 "Bravo! Hear, hear, hear!" cried my two uncles in 
 chorus, and Uncle Dick smiled and nodded and looked 
 as if he felt highly satisfied with himself; while I, with 
 a face that seemed to be all on fire, jumped up ex- 
 citedly and cried: 
 
 " Let's all go and begin again." 
 
 " That's it — that settles it," cried Uncle Bob. 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Uncle Dick and Uncle Jack. " He's 
 quite right. We'll go." 
 
 Then all three beat upon the table with book and 
 pencil and compasses, and cried, " Hear, hear, hear ! " 
 while I shrank back into my chair, and felt half 
 ashamed of myself as I glanced at my father and 
 wondered whether he was angry on account of what I 
 had proposed. 
 
 " That is settled then," he said quietly. " Jacob has 
 been your spokesman ; and now let me add my opinion 
 that you have taken the right course. What I propose 
 is this, that one of us stays and carries on the business 
 here till the others have got the Arrowfield afiair in 
 full swing. Who will stay?" 
 
 There was no answer. 
 
 "Shall I?" said my father. 
 
 " Yes, if you will," they chorused. 
 
 " Very good," said my father. " I am glad to do so, 
 for that will give me plenty of time to make arrange- 
 ments for Jacob here."
 
 16 JACOB IS TO GO. 
 
 " But he must go with us," said Uncle Dick. 
 
 " Yes, of course," said Uncle Jack. 
 
 " Couldn't go without him." 
 
 "But his education as an engineer?" 
 
 " Now, look here, Alick," said Uncle Dick, " don't 
 you think he'll learn as much with us down at the new 
 works as in any London place?" 
 
 My father sat silent and thoughtful, while I watched 
 the play of his countenance and trembled as I saw how 
 he was on the balance. For it would have been terrible 
 to me to have gone away now just as a new life of 
 excitement and adventure was opening out. 
 
 " Do you really feel that you would like Jacob to go 
 with you?" said my father at last. 
 
 There was a unanimous "Yes!" at this, and my 
 heart gave a jump. 
 
 " Well, then," said my father, " he shall go." 
 
 That settled the business, except a general shaking 
 of hands, for we were all delighted, little thinking, in 
 our innocence, of the troubles, the perils, and the 
 dangers through which we should have to go 
 
 ■^ 
 
 fes- 
 
 (322)
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A FIERY PLACE. 
 
 time was lost. The agreements were signed, 
 and Uncle Dick packed up his traps, as he 
 called them, that is to say, his books, clothes, 
 and models and contrivances, so as to go 
 down at once, take possession of the works, and get 
 apartments for us. 
 
 I should have liked to go with him, but I had to 
 stay for another week, and then^ after a hearty fare- 
 well, we others started, my father, mother, and sister 
 seeing us off by rail; and until I saw the trees, hedges, 
 and houses seeming to fly by me I could hardly believe 
 that we were really on our way. 
 
 Of course I felt a little low-spirited at leaving home, 
 and I was a little angry with myself for seeming to be 
 so glad to get away from those who had been so patient 
 and kind, but I soon found myself arguing that it 
 would have been just the same if I had left home only 
 to go to some business place in London. Still I was 
 looking very gloomy when Uncle Jack clapped me on 
 the shoulder, and asked me if I didn't feel like begin- 
 ning to be a man. 
 
 " No," I said sadly, as I looked out of the window 
 at the flying landscape, so that he should not see my 
 
 (322) B
 
 18 MY FIRST COAL-PIT. 
 
 face. " I feel more as if I was beginning to be a great 
 
 "Nonsense!" said Uncle Bob; "you're going to be a 
 man now, and help us." 
 
 "Am I?" said I sadly. 
 
 " To be sure you are. There, put tliat gloomy face 
 in your pocket and learn geography." 
 
 They both chatted to me, and I felt a little better, 
 but anything but cheerful, for it was my first time of 
 leaving home. I looked at the landscape, and the 
 towns and churches we passed, but nothing seemed to 
 interest me till, well on in my journey, I saw a sort of 
 wooden tower close to the line, with a wheel standing 
 half out of the top. There was an engine-house close 
 by — there was no doubt about it, for I could see the 
 puffs of white steam at the top, and a chimney. There 
 was a great mound of black slate and rubbish by the 
 end; but even though the railway had a siding close 
 up to it, and a number of trucks were standing waiting, 
 I did not realize what the place was till Uncle Jack 
 said: 
 
 "First time you've seen a coal-pit, eh?" 
 
 " Is that a coal-pit ? " I said, looking at the place more 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Those are the works. Of course you can't see the 
 shaft, because that's only like a big square. well." 
 
 " But I thouf^ht it would be a much more interesting 
 place," I said. 
 
 " Interesting enough down below; but of course there 
 is nothing to see at the top but the engine, cage, and 
 mouth of the shaft." 
 
 That brightened me up at once. There was some- 
 thing to think about in connection with a coal-mine — 
 the great deep shaft, the cage going up and down, the
 
 THE LAND OF FIRE. 19 
 
 miners with their safety-lamps and picks. I saw it all 
 in imagination as we dashed by another and another 
 mine. Then I began to think about the accidents of 
 which I had read; when men unfastened their wire- 
 gauze lamps, so that they might do that wdiich was 
 forbidden in a mine, smoke their pipes. The match 
 struck or the opened lamp set fire to the gas, when 
 there was an awful explosion, and after that the terrible 
 dangers of the after-damp, that fearful foul air which 
 no man could breathe for long and live. 
 
 There were hundreds of thoughts like this to take 
 my attention as we raced on by the fast train till, to 
 my surprise, I found that it was getting dark, and the 
 day had passed. 
 
 "Here we are close to it," said Uncle Jack; "look, 
 my lad." 
 
 I gazed out of the window on our right as the train 
 glided on, to see the glare as of a city on fire : the glow 
 of a dull red flickered and danced upon the dense clouds 
 that overhung the place. Tall chimneys stood up like 
 black stakes or posts set up in the reflection of open 
 furnace doors. Here a keen bright light w^ent straight 
 up through the smoke vv^ith the edges exactly defined 
 — here it was a sharp glare, there a dull red glow, and 
 everywhere there seemed to be fire and reflection, and 
 red or a'olden smoke mingled with a dull throbbing 
 booming sound, which, faintly heard at first, grew 
 louder and louder as the train slackened speed, and the 
 pant and pulsation of the engine ceased. 
 
 "Isn't something dreadful the matter?" I said, as I 
 gazed excitedly from the window. 
 
 "Matter!" said Uncle Jack laughing. 
 
 "Yes, isn't the place on fire? Look! look! There 
 there!"
 
 20 "LOOKS horrible!" 
 
 I pointed to a tierce glare that seemed to reach up 
 into the skv, cutting the dense cloud like millions of 
 golden arrows shot from some mighty engine all at 
 once. 
 
 " Yes, I see, old fellow," said Uncle Jack. " They 
 have just tapped a furnace, and the molten metal is 
 running into the moulds, that's all." 
 
 " But the whole town looks as if it were in a blaze," 
 I said nervously. 
 
 "So did our works sometimes, didn't they? Well, 
 here we are in a town where there are hundreds upon 
 hundreds of works ten times as big as ours. Nearly 
 everybody is either forging, or casting, or grinding. 
 The place is full of steam-engines, while the quantity 
 of coal that is burnt here every day must be prodigious. 
 Aha! here's Uncle Dick." 
 
 He had caught sioht of us before we saw him, and 
 threw open the carriage door ready to half haul us out, 
 as he shook hands as if we had not met for months." 
 
 " That's right," he cried. " I am glad you've come. 
 I've a cab waiting. Here, porter, lay hold of this bag- 
 gage. Well, Cob, what do you think of Arrowfield?" 
 
 " Looks horrible," I said in the disappointed tones of 
 one who is tired and hungry. 
 
 " Yes, outside," said Uncle Dick; " but wait till you 
 see the inside." 
 
 Uncle Dick was soon standing in what he called the 
 inside of AiTowfield — that is to say the inside of the 
 comfortable furnished lodgings he had taken right up 
 a hill, where, over a cosy tea-table with hot country 
 cakes and the juiciest of hot mutton chops, I soon for- 
 got the wearisome nature of our journey, and the dis- 
 mal look of the town. 
 
 " Eat away, my boys," cried Uncle Dick. " Yeat, as
 
 "AVAST joking!" 21 
 
 they call it here. The place is all right; everything 
 ready for work, and we'll set to with stout hearts, and 
 make up for lost time." 
 
 "When do we begin, uncle — to-morrow?" 
 
 " No, no: not till next Monday morning. To-morrow 
 we'll have a look over the works, and then we'll idle 
 a bit — have a few runs into the country round, and see 
 what it's like." 
 
 " Black dismal place," I said dolefully. . 
 
 " Says he's tired out and wants to go to bed," said 
 Uncle Jack, giving his eye a peculiar cock at his 
 brothers. 
 
 " I didn't," I cried. 
 
 " Not in words, my fine fellow, but you looked it." 
 
 " Then I won't look so again," I cried. " I say, don't 
 talk to me as if I were a little boy to be sent to bed." 
 
 "Well, you're not a man yet. Cob. Is he, boys?" 
 
 Uncle Dick was in high spirits, and he took up a 
 candle and held it close to my cheek. 
 
 "What's the matter?" I said. "Is it black? I 
 shouldn't wonder." 
 
 " Not a bit, Cob," he said seriously. " You can't even 
 see a bit of the finest down growing." 
 
 " Oh, I say," I cried, " it's too bad ! I don't pretend 
 to be a man at sixteen; but now I've come down here 
 to help you in the new works, you oughtn't to treat 
 me as if I were a little boy." 
 
 "Avast joking!" said Uncle Dick quietly, for the 
 comely landlady came in to clear away the tea-things, 
 and she had just finished when there was a double 
 knock at the front door. 
 
 We heard it opened, and a deep voice speaking, and 
 directly after the landlady came in with a card. 
 
 " Mr. Tomplin, gentlemen," she said. " He's at the
 
 22 "WELCOME TO YORKSHIRE!" 
 
 door, and I was to say that if it was inconvenient for 
 you to see him to-night, perhaps you would call at his 
 office when you were down the town." 
 
 " Oh, ask him in, Mrs. Stephenson," cried Uncle Dick ; 
 and as she left the room — "it's the solicitor to whom I 
 brought the letter of introduction from the bank." 
 
 It was a short dark man in black coat and waistcoat 
 and pepper-and-salt trousers who was shown in. He 
 had little sharp eyes that seemed to glitter. So did 
 his hair, which was of light-gray, and stood up all over 
 his head as if it was on white tire. He had not a par- 
 ticle of hair on his face, which looked as if he was a 
 very good customer to the barber. 
 
 He shook hands very heartily with all of us, nodding 
 pleasantly the while; and when he sat down he took 
 out a brown-and-yellow silk handkerchief and blew 
 his nose like a horn. 
 
 " Welcome to Yorkshire, gentlemen ! " he said. " My 
 old friends at the bank send me a very warm letter of 
 recommendation about you, and I'm at your service. 
 Professional consultations at the usual fee, six and 
 eight or thirteen and four, according to length. Friendly 
 consultations — Thank you, I'm much oljliged. This is 
 a friendly consultation. Now what can I do for you?" 
 
 He looked round at us all, and I felt favourably im- 
 pressed. So did my uncles, as Uncle Dick answered 
 for all. 
 
 " Nothing at present, sir. By and by we shall be 
 glad to come to you for legal and friendly advice too." 
 
 " That's right," said Mr. Tomj)lin. " You've taken 
 the Rivulet Works, I hear." 
 
 " Yes, down there by the stream." 
 
 " What are you going to do ? — carry on the old forg- 
 ing and grinding?"
 
 SUGGESTIONS OF DANGER. 23 
 
 " Oh, dear, no!" said Uncle Dick. " We are going in 
 for odds and ends, sir. To introduce, I hope, a good 
 many improvements in several branches of the trades 
 carried on here, principally in forging." 
 
 Mr. Tomplin drew in his lips and filled his face 
 with wrinkles. 
 
 "Going to introduce new inventions, eh?" he said. 
 "Yes, sir, but only one at a time," said Uncle Jack. 
 " And have you brought a regiment of soldiers with 
 you, gentlemen?" 
 
 "Brought a what?" said Uncle Bob, laughing. 
 " Regiment of soldiers, sir, and a company of artil- 
 lerymen with a couple of guns." 
 
 "Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Uncle Dick, showing his 
 white teeth. " Mr. Tomplin means to besiege Arrow- 
 field." 
 
 "No, I don't, my dear sir. I mean to turn your 
 works into a fort to defend yourselves against your 
 enemies." 
 
 " My dear sir," said Uncle Jack, " we haven't an 
 enemy in the world." 
 
 " Not at the present moment, sir, I'll be bound," said 
 Mr. Tomplin, taking snuft', and then blowing his nose 
 so violently that I wondered he did not have an acci- 
 dent with it and split the sides. " Not at the present 
 moment, gentlemen; but as soon as it is known that 
 you are going to introduce new kinds of machinery, 
 our enlightened townsmen will declare you are going 
 to take the bread out of their mouths and destroy 
 everything you make." 
 
 " Take the bread out of their mouths, my dear Mr. 
 Tomplin!" said Uncle Jack. "Why, what we do will 
 put bread in their mouths by making more work." 
 " Of course it will, my dear sirs."
 
 24 A CHEERFUL PLACE. 
 
 "Then why should they interfere?" 
 
 "Because of their ignorance, gentlemen. Thej^ 
 won't see it. Take my advice: there's plenty to be 
 done by clever business men. Start some steady manu- 
 facture to employ hands as the work suggests. Only 
 use present-day machinery if you wish to be at peace." 
 
 "We do wish to be at peace, Mr. Tomplin," said 
 Uncle Bob ; " but we do not mean to let a set of igno- 
 rant workmen frighten us out of our projects." 
 
 " Hear, hear!" said Uncle Dick and Uncle Jack; and 
 I put in a small " hear " at the end. 
 
 " Well, gentlemen, I felt it to be my duty to tell 
 you," said Mr. Tomplin, taking more snufF and making 
 more noise. " You will have attacks made upon you 
 to such an extent that you had better be in the bush 
 in Queensland among the blacks." 
 
 "But not serious attacks?" said Uncle Jack. "At- 
 tempts to frighten us?" 
 
 "Attempts to frighten you! Well, you may call 
 them that," said Mr. Tomplin; "but there have been 
 two men nearly beaten to death with sticks, one factory 
 set on fire, and two gunpowder explosions during the 
 past year. Take my advice, gentlemen, and don't put 
 yourself in opposition to the workmen if you are going 
 to settle down here." 
 
 He rose, shook hands, and went away, leaving us 
 looking at each other across the table. 
 
 " Cheerful place Arrowfield seems to be," said Uncle 
 Dick. 
 
 " Promises to be lively," said Uncle Jack. 
 
 " What do you say. Cob?" cried Uncle Bob. " Shall 
 we give up, be frightened, and run away like dogs 
 with our tails between our less?" 
 
 "iN'o!" I cried, thumping the table with my fist.
 
 AN ALARM OF FIRE. 25 
 
 " I wouldn't be frightened out of anything I felt to be 
 right." 
 
 "Bravo! bravo! bravo!" cried my uncles. 
 
 " At least I don't think I would," I said. " Perhaps 
 I really am a coward after all." 
 
 " Well," said Uncle Dick, " I don't feel like giving up 
 for such a thing as this. I'd sooner buy pistols and 
 guns and fight. It can't be so bad as the old gentle- 
 man says. He's only scaring us. There, it's ten 
 o'clock; you fellows are tired, and we w^ant to break- 
 fast early and go and see the works, so let's get to 
 bed." 
 
 We were far enough out of the smoke for our bed- 
 rooms to be beautifully white and sweet, and I was 
 delighted with mine, as I saw what a snug little place 
 it was. I said "Good-night!" and had shut my door, 
 when, going to my window, I drew aside the blind, and 
 found that I was looking right down upon the town. 
 
 " Oh!" I ejaculated, and I ran out to the next room, 
 which was Uncle Dick's. "Look!" I cried. "Now 
 you'll believe me. The town is on fire." 
 
 He drew up the blind, and threw up his window, 
 when w^e both looked down at what seemed to be the 
 dying out of a tremendous confiagration — dying out, 
 save in one place, where there was a furious rush of 
 light right up into the air, with sparks flaying and 
 flickering tongues of flame darting up and sinking 
 down again, while the red and tawny-yellow smoke 
 rolled away. 
 
 "On fire. Cob!" he said quietly. "Yes, the town's 
 on fire, but in the proper way. Arrowfield is a fiery 
 place — all furnaces. There's nothing the matter, lad." 
 
 "But there! there!" I cried, "where the sparks are 
 roaring and rushing out with al]».that flame."
 
 26 THE BESSEMER STEEL. 
 
 " There ! Oh ! that's nothing, my boy. The town is 
 always like this." 
 
 "But you don't see where I mean," I cried, still 
 doubting, and pointing down to our right. 
 
 "Oh, yes! I do, my dear boy. That is where they 
 are making the Bessemer steeL" 
 
 •u
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A BAD BEGINNING. 
 
 THOUGHT when I lay down, after putting 
 out my candle, that I should never get a 
 wink of sleep. There was a dull glow upon 
 my window-blind, and I could hear a dis- 
 tant clanQ-our and a curious faint roar; l)ut all at once, 
 so it seemed to me, I opened my eyes, and the dull glow 
 had given place to bright sunshine on my window- 
 blind, and jumping out of bed I found that I had slept 
 heartily till nearly breakfast time, for the chinking of 
 cups in saucers fell upon my ear. 
 
 I looked out of the window, and there lay the town 
 with the smoke hanging over it in a dense cloud, but 
 the bano-inof of a wash-iug against a basin warned me 
 that Uncle Dick was on the move, and the next mo- 
 ment ta'p, tap, tap, came three blows on my wall, which 
 I knew as well as could be were given with the edge 
 of a hair-brush, and I replied in the same way. 
 
 "Ha, ha!" cried Uncle Bob, "if they are going to 
 give us fried ham like that for breakfast — " 
 
 "And such eo;o;s!" cried Uncle Jack. 
 
 "And such bread!" said Uncle Dick, hewing off a 
 great slice. 
 
 "And such coffee and milk!" I said, taking up the
 
 28 A LOOK AT THE NATIVES. 
 
 idea that I was sure was coming, " we won't go back 
 to London." 
 
 " Right!" said Uncle Dick. "Bah! just as if we were 
 going to be frightened away by a set of old women's 
 tales. They've got police here, and laws." 
 
 The matter was discussed until breakfast was over, 
 and by that time my three giants of uncles had de- 
 cided that they would not stir for an army of discon- 
 tented workmen, but would do their duty to them- 
 selves and their partner in London. 
 
 "But look here, boys," said Uncle Dick; "if we are 
 going to war, we don't want women in the way." 
 
 "No," said Uncle Jack. 
 
 "So you had better write and tell Alick to keep on 
 the old place till the company must have it, and by that 
 time we shall know what we ai-e about." 
 
 This was done directly after breakfast, and as soon 
 as the letter had been despatched we went off to see 
 the works. 
 
 " I shall never like this place," I said, as we went 
 down towards the town. "London was smoky enough, 
 but this is terrible." 
 
 "Oh, wait a bit!" said Uncle Dick, and as we strode 
 on with me trying to take long steps to keep up with 
 my companions, I could not help seeing how the people 
 kept staring at them. And though there were plenty 
 of big fine men in the town, I soon saw that my uncles 
 stood out amongst them as beino; remarkable for their 
 size and frank handsome looks. This was the more 
 plainly to be seen, since the majority of the workpeople 
 we passed were pale, thin, and degenerate looking little 
 men, with big muscular arms, and a general appearance 
 of everything else having been sacrificed to make those 
 limbs strong.
 
 THE SOUNDS OF LABOUR. 29 
 
 The farther we went the more unsatisfactory the 
 town looked. We were leaving the great works to 
 the right, and our way lay through streets and streets 
 of dingy-looking houses all alike, and with the open 
 channels in front foul with soapy water and the refuse 
 which the people threw out. 
 
 I looketl up with disgust painted on my face so 
 strongly that Uncle Bob laughed. 
 
 "Here, let's get this fellow a bower somewhere by a 
 beautiful stream," he cried, laughing. Then more 
 seriously, "Never mind the dirt. Cob," he cried. "Dirty 
 work brings clean money." 
 
 "Oh, I don't mind," I said. "Which way now?" 
 
 "Down here," said Uncle Dick; and he led us down a 
 nasty dirty street, worse than any we had yet passed, 
 and so on and on, for about half an hour, till we were 
 once more where wheels whirred, and we could hear 
 the ha^^sh churring noise of blades being held upon 
 rapidly revolving stones. Now and then, too, I caught 
 sight of water on our right, down through lanes where 
 houses and works were crowded together. 
 
 "Do you notice one thing, Cob?" said Uncle Dick. 
 
 "One thing!" I said; "there's so much to notice that 
 I don't know what to look at first." 
 
 "I'll tell you what I mean," he said. "You can hear 
 the rush and rumble of machinerj^, can't you?" 
 
 "Yes," I said, "like wheels whizzing and stones rolling, 
 as if giant tinkers were grinding enormous scissors." 
 
 "Exactly," he said; "but you very seldom hear the 
 hiss of steam out here." 
 
 "No. Have they a different kind of engines?" 
 
 "Yes, a very different kind. Your steam-engine goes 
 because the water is made hot: these machines go with 
 the water kept cold."
 
 30 OUR WORKS. 
 
 "Oh, I see! by hydraulic presses." 
 
 "No, not by hydraulic presses. Cob; by hydraulic 
 power. Look here." 
 
 We were getting quite in the outskirts now, and on 
 rising ground, and, drawing me on one side, he showed 
 me that the works we were by were dependent on 
 water-power alone. 
 
 "Why, it's like one of those old flour-mills up the 
 country rivers," I exclaimed, "with their mill-dam, and 
 water-wheel." 
 
 "And without the willows and lilies and silver but- 
 tercups. Cob," said Uncle Jack. 
 
 "And the great jack and chub and tench we used to 
 fish out," said Uncle Bob. 
 
 "Yes," I said; "I suppose one would catch old sauce- 
 pans, dead cats, and old shoes in a dirty pool like 
 this." 
 
 "Yes," said Uncle Dick, "and our wheel-bands when 
 the trades'-union people attack us." 
 
 "Why should they throw them in here?" I said, as 
 I looked at the great deep-looking piece of water held 
 up by a strong stone-built dam, and fed by a stream 
 at the farther end. 
 
 " Because it would be the handiest place. These are 
 our works." 
 
 I looked at the stone-built prison-like place in dis- 
 gust. It was wonderfully strongly built, and with 
 small windows protected by iron bars, but such a deso- 
 late unornamental spot. It stood low down by the 
 b7'oad sliallow stream that ran on toward the town in 
 what must once have been the bed of the river; but 
 the steep banks had been utilized by the builders on 
 each side, and everywhere one saw similar -looking 
 places so arranged that their foundation walls caught
 
 THEIR GEOGRAPHY. 31 
 
 and held up the water that came down, and was 
 directed into the dam, and trickled out at the lower 
 end after it had turned a great slimy water-wheel. 
 
 "This is our place, boys; come and have a look at it." 
 
 He led us down a narrow passage half-way to the 
 stream, and then rang at a gate in a stone wall; and 
 while we waited low down there I looked 
 at the high rough stone wall and the two- Entry of 
 storied factory with its rows of strong iron- ""^ stream. 
 barred windows, and thought of what Mr. 
 Tomplin had said the night before, coming 
 to the conclusion that it was a pretty strong 
 fortress in its way. For here was a stout 
 high wall; down along by the stream 
 there was a high blank wall right 
 from the stones over which the water 
 trickled to the double row of little 
 windows; while from the top cor- 
 ner by the water-wheel, which was ''y 
 fixed at the far end of the 
 works, there was the dam of 
 deep water, which acted the 
 part of a moat, running off 
 almost to a point where 
 the stream came in, so 
 that the place was about 
 
 the shape of the annexed triangle: the works occupy- 
 ing the whole of the base, the rest being the deep 
 stone-walled dam. 
 
 " I think we could keep out the enemy if he came," 
 I said to Uncle Bob; and just then a short-haired, pale- 
 faced man, with bent shoulders, bare arms, and an ugly 
 squint, opened the gate and scowled at us. 
 
 " Is your master in ?" said Uncle Dick.
 
 32 A ROUGH CUSTODIER.' 
 
 " No-ah," said the man sourly; "and he wean't be here 
 to-day." 
 
 " That's a bad job," said Uncle Dick. " Well, never 
 mind; we want to go round the works." 
 
 " Nay, yow wean't come in here." 
 
 He was in the act of banging the gate, but Uncle 
 Dick placed one of his great brown hands against it 
 and thrust it open, driving the man back, but only 
 for a moment, for he flew at my uncle, caught him by 
 the arm and waist, thrust forward a leg, and tried to 
 throw him out by a clever wrestling trick. 
 
 But Uncle Dick was too quick for him. Wrenching 
 himself on one side he threw his left arm over the 
 fellow's neck, as he bent down, the right arm under 
 his leg, and whirled him up perfectly helpless, but 
 kicking with all his mio-ht. 
 
 " Come inside and shut that gate," said Uncle Dick, 
 panting with his exertion. " Now look here, my fine 
 fellow, it would serve you right if I dropped you into 
 that dam to cool you down. But there, get on your 
 legs," he cried contemptuously, " and learn to be civil 
 to strangers when they come." 
 
 The scuffle and noise brought about a dozen work- 
 men out of the place, each in wooden clogs, with a 
 rough wet apron about him, and his sleeves rolled up 
 nearly to the shoulder. 
 
 They came forward, looking very fierce and as if they 
 were going to attack us, headed by the fellow with the 
 squint, who was no sooner at liberty than he snatched 
 up a rough piece of iron bar and rolled up his right 
 sleeve ready for a fresh attack. 
 
 " Give me that stick, Col)," said Uncle Dick quickly; 
 and I handed him the light Malacca cane I carried. 
 
 He had just seized it when the man raised the iron
 
 A QUEER RECEPTION. 33 
 
 bar, and I felt sick as I saw the blow that was aimed 
 at my uncle's head. 
 
 I need not have felt troubled though, for, big as he 
 was, he jumped aside, avoided the bar with the greatest 
 ease, and almost at the same moment there was a 
 whizz and a cut like lightning delivered by Uncle 
 Dick with my light cane. 
 
 It struck the assailant on the tendons of the leg be- 
 neath the knee, and he uttered a yell and went down 
 as if killed. 
 
 "Coom on, lads!" cried one of the others; and they 
 rushed towards us, headed by a heavy thick-set fellow; 
 but no one flinched, and they hesitated as they came 
 close up. 
 
 " Take that fellow away," said Uncle Jack sternly; 
 "and look here, while you stay, if any gentleman 
 comes to the gate don't send a surly dog like that." 
 
 "Whoareyow? What d'ye want? Happen yow'll 
 get some'at if yo' stay." 
 
 "I want to go round the place. I am one of the 
 proprietors who have taken it." 
 
 "Eh, you be — be you? Here, lads, this is one o' 
 chaps as is turning us out. We've got the wheels ti' 
 Saturday, and we wean't hev no one here." 
 
 "No, no," rose in chorus. "Open gate, lads, and 
 hev 'em out." 
 
 "Keep back!" said Uncle Dick, stepping forward; 
 " keep back, unless you want to be hurt. No one is 
 going to interfere with your rights, which end on 
 Saturday night." 
 
 "Eh! but if it hedn't been for yow we could ha' 
 kep' on." 
 
 "Well, you'll have to get some other place," said 
 Uncle Dick; " we want this." 
 
 (322) c
 
 34 A SHOWER — NOT RAIN. 
 
 He turned his back on them and spoke to his bro- 
 thers, who both, knowing their great strength, which 
 they cultivated by muscular exercise, had stood quite 
 calm and patient, but watchful, and ready to go to 
 their brother's aid in an instant should he need assis- 
 tance. 
 
 " Come on and look round," said Uncle Dick coolly; 
 and he did not even glance at the squinting man, who 
 had tried to get up, but sank down again and sat 
 grinning with pain and holding his injured leg. 
 
 The calm indifference with which my three uncles 
 towered above the undersized, pallid-looking fellows, 
 and walked by them to the entrance to the stone 
 building had more effect than a score of blows, and 
 the men stopped clustered round their companion, and 
 talked to him in a low voice. But I was not six feet 
 two like Uncle Bob, nor six feet one like Uncle Jack, 
 nor six feet three like Uncle Dick. I was only an 
 ordinary lad of sixteen, and much easier prey for their 
 hate, and this they saw and showed. 
 
 For as I followed last, and was about to enter the 
 door, a shower of stones and pieces of iron came whiz- 
 zing about me, and falling with a rattle and clangour 
 upon the cobble stones with which the place was 
 paved. 
 
 Unfortunately, one piece, stone or iron, struck me 
 on the shoulder, a heavy blow that made me feel sick, 
 and I needed all the fortitude I could call up to hide 
 my pain, for I was afraid to say or do anything that 
 would cause fresh trouble. 
 
 So I followed my uncles into the spacious ground- 
 floor of the works, all wet and dripping with the water 
 from the grindstones which had just been left by the 
 men, and were still whizzing round waiting to be used.
 
 THE WATEK-WHEEL, 35 
 
 " Plenty of room here," said Uncle Dick, " and plenty 
 of power, you see," he continued, pointing to the shaft 
 and wheels above our heads. " Ugly-looking place 
 this," he went on, pointing to a trap-door at the end, 
 which he lifted; and I looked down with a shudder to 
 see a great shaft turning slowly round; and there was 
 a slimy set of rotten wooden steps going right down 
 into the blackness, where the water was falling with a 
 curiously hollow echoing sound. 
 
 As I turned from looking down I saw that the men 
 had followed us, and the fellow with the squint seemed 
 to have one of his unpleasant eyes fixed upon me, and 
 he gave me a peculiar look and grin that I had good 
 reason to remember. 
 
 " This is the way to the big wheel," said Uncle Dick, 
 throwing open a door at the end. " They go out here 
 to oil and repair it when it's out of gear. Nasty spot 
 too, but there's a wonderful supply of cheap power." 
 
 With the men growling and muttering behind us, 
 we looked through into a great half-lit stone cham- 
 ber that inclosed the great wheel on one side, leaving 
 a portion visible as we had seen it from the outside; 
 and here again I shuddered and felt uncomfortable, it 
 seemed such a horrible place to fall into and from which 
 there would be no escape, imless one could swim in 
 the surging water below, and then clamber into the 
 wheel, and climb through it like a squirrel. 
 
 The walls were dripping and green, and they echoed 
 and seemed to whisper back to the great wheel as it 
 turned and splashed and swung down its long arms, 
 each doubling itself on the wall by making a moving 
 shadow. 
 
 The place had such a fascination for me that I stood 
 with one hand upon the door and a foot inside looking
 
 36 THE GRINDING SHOP. 
 
 down at the faintly seen black water, listening to the 
 echoes, and then watching the wheel as it turned, one 
 pale spot on the rim catching my eye especially. As 
 I watched it I saw it go down into the darkness with 
 a tremendous sweep, with a great deal of splashing and 
 fallinc; of water; then after beino- out of sight for a 
 few moments it came into view again, was whirled 
 round, and dashed down. 
 
 I don't know how it was, but I felt myself thinking 
 that suppose anyone fell into the horrible pit below 
 me, he would swim round by the slimy walls trying 
 to find a place to cling to, and finding none he would 
 be swept round to the wheel, to which in his despair 
 he would clincr. Then he would be draoged out of 
 the water, swung round, and — 
 
 "Do you hear, Cob?" cried Uncle Jack. " What is 
 there to attract you, my lad? Come along." 
 
 I seemed to be roused out of a dream, and starting 
 back, the door was closed, and I followed the others as 
 they went to the far end of the great ground-floor to 
 a door opening upon a stone staircase. 
 
 We had to pass the men, who were standing about 
 close to their grindstones, beside which were little 
 jjiles of the articles they were grinding — common 
 knives, sickles, and scythe blades, ugly weapons if the 
 men rose against us as they seemed disposed to do. 
 
 They muttered and talked to themselves, but they 
 did not seem inclined to make any farther attack; 
 while as we reached the stairs I heard the harsh 
 shrieking of blades that were being held upon the 
 stones, and I knew that some men must have begun 
 work. 
 
 The upper floor was of the same size as the lower, 
 but divided into four rooms by partitions, and here
 
 WE COMPLETE THE INSPECTION. 37 
 
 too were shafts and wheels turning from their connec- 
 tion with the great water-wheel. Over that a small 
 room had been built supported by an arch stretching 
 from the works to a stone wall, and as we looked out 
 of the narrow iron-barred window down upon the deep 
 dam, Uncle Bob said laughingly: 
 
 " What a place for you, Cob! You could drop a line 
 out of the window, and catch fish like fun." 
 
 I laughed, and we all had a good look round before 
 examining the side buildings, where there were forges 
 and furnaces, and a tall chimney-shaft ran up quite a 
 hundred feet. 
 
 " Plent}^ of room to do any amount of work," cried 
 Uncle Jack. " I think the place a bargain." 
 
 " Yes," said Uncle Bob, " where we can carry out 
 our inventions; and if anybody is disagreeable, we can 
 shut ourselves up like knights in a castle and laugh at 
 all attacks." 
 
 "Yes," said Uncle Dick thoughtfully; "but I wish 
 we had not begun by quarrelling with those men." 
 
 "Let's try and make friends as we go out," said 
 Uncle Jack. 
 
 It was a good proposal; and, under the impression 
 that a gallon or two of beer would heal the sore place, 
 we went into the big workshop or mill, where all the 
 men had now resumed their tasks, and were grinding 
 away as if to make up for lost time. 
 
 One man was seated alone on a stone bench, and as 
 we entered he half turned, and I saw that it was 
 Uncle Dick's opponent. 
 
 He looked at us for a moment and then turned 
 scowling away. 
 
 My uncles whispered together, and then Uncle Dick 
 stepped forward and said:
 
 38 A WASTED APOLOGY. 
 
 " I'm sorry we had this little upset, my lads. It all 
 arose out of a mistake. We have taken these works, 
 and of course wanted to look round them, but we do 
 not wish to put you to any inconvenience. Will you — " 
 
 He stopped short, for as soon as he began to speak 
 the men seemed to press down their blades that they 
 were grindino- harder and harder, makini? them send 
 forth such a deafening churring screech that he paused 
 quite in despair of making himself heard. 
 
 "My lads!" he said, trying again. 
 
 Not a man turned his head, and it was plain enough 
 that they would not hear. 
 
 "Let me speak to him," said Uncle Bob, catching 
 his brother by the arm, for Uncle Dick was going to 
 address the man on the stone. 
 
 Uncle Dick nodded, for he felt that it would be 
 better for someone else to speak; but the man got up, 
 scowled at Uncle Bob, and when he held out a couple 
 of half-crowns to him to buy beer to drink our healths 
 the fellow made a derisive gesture, walked to his stone, 
 and sat down. 
 
 "Just as they like," said Uncle Dick. "We apologized 
 and behaved like gentlemen. If they choose to behave 
 like blackguards, let them. Come along." 
 
 We turned to the door, my fate, as usual, being to 
 come last; and as we passed through not a head was 
 turned, eveiy man pressing down some steel implement 
 upon his whirling stone, and making it shriek, and, in 
 spite of the water in which the wheel revolved, send 
 forth a shower of sparks. 
 
 The noise was deafening, but as we passed into the 
 yard on the way to the lane the grinding suddenly 
 ceased, and when we liad the gate well open the men 
 had gathered at the door of the works, and gave vent
 
 ]MY FIRST WOUND. 39 
 
 to a savage hooting and yelling which continued after 
 we had passed through, and as we went along by the 
 side of the dam we were saluted by a shower of stones 
 and pieces of iron thrown from the yard. 
 
 " Well," said Uncle Bob, "this is learning something 
 with a vengeance. I didn't think we had such savages 
 in Christian England." 
 
 By this time we were out of the reach of the men, 
 and going on towards the top of the dam, when Uncle 
 Dick, who had been looking very serious and thought- 
 ful, said: 
 
 " I'm sorry, very sorry this has happened. It has 
 set these men against us." 
 
 "No," said Uncle Jack quietly; "the mischief was 
 done before we came. This place has been to let for a 
 long time." 
 
 "Yes," said Uncle Bob, "that's why we got it so 
 cheaply." 
 
 "And," continued Uncle Jack, "these fellows have 
 had the run of the works to do their grinding for 
 almost nothing. They were wild with us for taking 
 the place and turning them out." 
 
 "Yes," said Uncle Dick, "that's the case, no doubt; 
 but I'm very sorry I began by hurting that fellow all 
 the same." 
 
 " I'm not, Uncle Dick," I said, as I compressed my 
 lips with pain. They are great cowards or they would 
 not have thrown a piece of iron at me;" and I laid my 
 hand upon my shoulder, to draw it back wet with 
 blood.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 OUR ENGINE. 
 
 RAVO, Spartan!" cried Uncle Bob, as he 
 stood looking on, when, after walking 
 some distance, Uncle Dick insisted upon 
 my taking oft' my jacket in a lane and 
 having the place bathed." 
 
 "Oh, it's nothing," I said, "only it was tiresome for 
 it to bleed." 
 
 " Nothing like being prepared for emergencies," said 
 Uncle Jack, taking out his pocket-book, and from one 
 of the pockets a piece of sticking-plaster and a pair of 
 scissors. "I'm always cutting or pinching my fingers. 
 Wonder whether we could have stuck Cob's head on 
 again if it had been cut off ? " 
 
 I opined not as I submitted to the rough surgery 
 that went on, and then refusing aljsolutely to be treated 
 as a sick person, and go Ijack, I tramped on by them, 
 mile after mile, to see something of the fine open coun- 
 try out to the west of the town before we settled down 
 to work. 
 
 We were astonished, for as we got away from the 
 smoky pit in which Arrowheld lay, we found, in follow- 
 ing the bank of the rivulet that supplied our works, 
 that the country was lovely and romantic too. Hill, 
 dale, and ravine were all about us, rippling stream,
 
 THE FIRST GROUSE. 41 
 
 hanging wood, grove and garden, with a thousand 
 pretty views in every direction, as we climbed on to 
 the higher ground, till at last cultivation seemed to 
 have been left behind, and we were where the hills 
 towered up with ragged stony tops, and their slopes all 
 pui'ple heather, heath, and moss. 
 
 "Look, look!" I cried, as I saw a covey of birds 
 skim b}^; "partridges!" 
 
 " No," said Uncle Bob, watching where they dropped ; 
 "not partridges, my lad — grouse." 
 
 "What, here!" I said; "and so near the town." 
 
 "Near! Why we are seven or eight miles away." 
 
 " But I thought grouse were Scotch birds." 
 
 " They are birds of the moors," said Uncle Bob; "and 
 here you have them stretching for miles all over the 
 hills. This is about as wild a bit of country as you 
 could see. Why, the country people here call those 
 hills mountains." 
 
 "But are they mountains?" I said; "they don't look 
 very high." 
 
 " Higher than you think, my lad, with precipice and 
 ravine. Why, look — you can see the top of that one 
 is among the clouds." 
 
 " I should have thought it was a mist resting upon 
 it." 
 
 "Well, what is the difference?" said Uncle Bob, 
 smilino-. 
 
 Just then we reached a spot where a stream crossed 
 the road, and the sight of the rippling water, clear as 
 crystal, took our attention from the hills and vales 
 that spread around. My first idea was to run down to 
 the edge of the stream, which was so dotted with great 
 stones that I was soon quite in the middle, looking 
 after the shadowy shapes that I had seen dart away.
 
 42 OUT ON THE MOORS. 
 
 My uncles followed me, and we forgot all about the 
 work and troubles with the rough grinders, as we 
 searched for the trout and crept up to where we could 
 see some good-sized, broad- tailed fellow sunning him- 
 self till he caught sight of the intruders, and darted 
 away like a flash of liglit. 
 
 But Uncle Dick put a stop to our idling there, lead- 
 ing us back to the road and insisting upon our con- 
 tinuing^ alono; it for another mile. 
 
 "I want to show you our engine," he said. 
 
 "Our engine out here!" I cried. "It's some trick." 
 
 "You wait and see," he replied. 
 
 We went on through the beautiful breezy country 
 for some distance farther, till on one side we were 
 looking down into a valley and on the other side into 
 a lake, and I soon found that the lake had been formed 
 just as we schoolboys used to make a dam across a ditch 
 or stream when we were going to bale it out and get 
 the fish. 
 
 " Why," I cried, as we walked out on to the great 
 embankment, "this has all been made." 
 
 "To be sure," said Uncle Dick. "Just the same as 
 our little dam is at the works. That was formed by 
 building a strong stone wall across a hollow streamlet; 
 this was made by raising this great embankment right 
 across the valley here and stopping the stream that ran 
 through it. That's the way some of the lakes have 
 been made in Switzerland." 
 
 "What, by men?" 
 
 " No, by nature. A great landslip takes place from 
 the mountains, rushes down, and fills up a valley, and 
 the water is stopped from running away." 
 
 We walked right out along what seemed like a vast 
 railway embankment, on one side sloping right away
 
 THE GREAT DAM. 43 
 
 down into the valley, where the remains of the stream 
 that had been cut off trickled on towards Arrowfield. 
 On the other side the slope went down into the lake of 
 water, which stretched away toward the moorlands for 
 quite a mile. 
 
 "This needs to be tremendously strong," said Uncle 
 Jack thoughtfully, as we walked on till we were right 
 in the middle and first stood looking down the valley, 
 winding in and out, with its scattered houses, farms, 
 and mills, and then turned to look upward towards the 
 moorland and along the damnied-up lake. 
 
 " Why, this embankment must be a quarter of a mile 
 long," said Uncle Jack thoughtfully. 
 
 "What a pond for fishing!" I cried, as I imagined it 
 to be peopled by large jack and shoals of smaller fish. 
 "How deep is it, I wonder?" 
 
 Did you ever know a boy yet who did not want to 
 know how deep a piece of water was, when he saw it? 
 
 "Deep!" said Uncle Dick; "that's easily seen. Deep 
 as it is from here to the bottom of the valley on the 
 other side: eighty or ninety feet. I should say this 
 embankment is over a hundred in perpendicular height." 
 
 "Look here," said Uncle Jack suddenly; "if I know 
 anything about engineering, this great dam is not 
 safe." 
 
 "Not safe!" I said nervously. "Let's get off it at 
 once." 
 
 "I daresay it will hold to-day," said Uncle Dick 
 dryly, but you can run off if you like, Cob." 
 
 "Are you coming?" 
 
 "Not just at present," he said, smiling grimly. 
 
 I put my hands in my pockets and stood looking at 
 the great embankment, which formed a level road or 
 path of about twelve feet wide where we stood, and
 
 44 UNCLE dick's engine. 
 
 then sloped down, as I have said, like a railway em- 
 bankment far down into the valley on our left, and to 
 the water on our right. 
 
 "I don't care," said Uncle Jack, knitting his brows 
 as he scanned the place well, "I say it is not safe. Here 
 is about a quarter of a mile of earthen wall that has 
 no natural strength for holding together like a wall of 
 bonded stone or brick." 
 
 "But look at its weight," said Uncle Bob. 
 
 "Yes, that is its only strength — its weight; but look 
 at the weio'ht of the water, about a mile of water 
 seventy or eighty feet deep just here. Perhaps only 
 sixty. The pressure of this water against it must be 
 tremendous." 
 
 "Of course," said Uncle Dick thoughtfully; "but you 
 forget the shape of the wall. Jack. It is like an elon- 
 gated pyramid : broad at the base and coming up nearly 
 to a point." 
 
 "No," said Uncle Jack, "I've not forgotten all that. 
 Of course it is all the stronger for it, the wider the 
 base is made. But I'm not satisfied, and if I had made 
 this dam I should have made this wall twice as thick 
 or three times as thick ; and I don't know that I should 
 have felt satisfied with its stability then." 
 
 "Well done, old conscientious!" cried Uncle Bob, 
 laughing. "Lot's get on." 
 
 "Stop a moment," I cried. "Uncle Dick said he would 
 show us our engine." 
 
 "Well, there it is," said Uncle Dick, pointing to the 
 dammed-up lake. "Isn't it powerful enough for you. 
 This reservoir was made by a water company to supply 
 all our little dams, and keep all our mills going. It 
 gathers tlie water off the moorlands, saves it up, and 
 lets us have it in a i-cgular supply. What would be
 
 "I'm only a cowaku." 45 
 
 the consequences of a burst, Jack?" he said, turning to 
 his brother. 
 
 "Don't talk about it man," said Uncle Jack frowning. 
 "Why, this body of water broken loose would sweep 
 down that valley and scour everything away witii it — 
 houses, mills, rocks, all would go like corks." 
 
 "Why, it would carry away our works, then," I cried. 
 "The place is right down by the water side." 
 
 "I hope not," said Uncle Jack. "No I should say the 
 force would be exhausted before it got so far as that, 
 eight or nine miles away." 
 
 "Well, it does look dangerous," said Uncle Bob. 
 "The weight must be tremendous. How would it go 
 if it did burst?" 
 
 "I say, uncle, I'm only a coward, please. Hadn't we 
 better go off" here?" 
 
 They all lauglied, and we went on across the dam. 
 
 "How would it go!" said Uncle Jack thoughtfully. 
 "It is imjDOssible to say. Probably the water would eat 
 a little hole through the top somewhere and that would 
 rapidly grow bigger, the water pouring through in a 
 stream, and cutting its way down till the solidity of 
 the wall being destroyed by the continuity being- 
 broken great masses would crumble away all at once, 
 and the pent-up waters would rush through." 
 
 "And if they came down and washed away our 
 works just as we were making our fortunes, you would 
 say I was to blame for taking such a dangerous place." 
 
 "There, come along," cried Uncle Bob, "don't let's 
 meet troubles half-way. I want a ramble over those 
 hills. There, Cob, now we're safe," he said, as we left 
 the great dam behind. Now, then, who's for some 
 lunch, eh?" 
 
 This last question was suggested by the sight of a
 
 46 IN MOUNTAIN LAND. 
 
 snug little village inn, where we had a hearty meal 
 and a rest, and then tramped off to meet with an un- 
 expected adventure among the hills. 
 
 As soon as one gets into a hilly country the feeling 
 that comes over one is that he ought to get up higher, 
 and I had that sensation strongly. 
 
 But what a o;lorious walk it was! We left the road 
 as soon as we could and struck right away as the crow 
 Hies for one of several tremendous hills that we saw in 
 the distance. Under our feet was the purple heath 
 with great patches of wdiortleberry, that tiny shrul) 
 that bears the little purply gray fruit. Then there was 
 short elastic wiry grass and orange-yellow bird's-foot 
 trefoil. Anon we came to great patches of furze of a 
 dwarf kind witli small prickles, and of an elegant 
 growth, the purple and yellow making the place look 
 like some vast wild garden. 
 
 "We always seem to be climbing up," said Uncle 
 Dick. 
 
 "When we are not sliding down," said Uncle Jack, 
 lauo-hinp-. 
 
 " I've been looking for a bit of level ground for a 
 race," said Uncle Bob. "My word! what a wdld place 
 it is!" 
 
 "But how beautiful!" I cried, as we sat down on 
 some rough blocks of stone, with the pure thyme- 
 scented air blowing on our clieeks, larks singing above 
 our heads, and all around the hum of insects or bees 
 hunying from blossom to blo.ssom; while we saw the 
 grasshoppers slowly climbing up to the top of some 
 strand of grass, take a look round, and then set their 
 spring legs in motion and take a good leap. 
 
 "What a difference in the hills!" said Uncle Jack, 
 looking thoughtfully from some that were smooth of
 
 A WILD WALK. 47 
 
 outline to others that were all rugged and looked as it" 
 great jagged masses of st^^ne had been piled upon their 
 tops. 
 
 " Yes," said Uncle Dick. " Two formations. Moun- 
 tain limestone yonder; this we are on, with all these 
 rough pieces on the surface and sticking out every- 
 where, is millstone grit." 
 
 " Wliich is millstone grit?" I cried. 
 
 " This," he said, taking out a little hammer and 
 chipping one of the stones by us to show me that it 
 was a sandstone full of hard fracjments of silica. 
 " You might open a quarry anywhere here and cut 
 millstones, but of course some of the stone is better for 
 the purpose than others." 
 
 " Yes," said Uncle Jack thoughtfully. " Arrowfield 
 is famously situated for its purpose — plenty of coal for 
 forging, plenty of water to work mills, plenty of quar- 
 ries to get millstones for grinding." 
 
 " Come along," cried Uncle Bob, starting up ; and 
 before we had gone far the grouse flew, skimming 
 away before us, and soon after we came to a lovely 
 mountain stream that sparkled and danced as it 
 dashed down in hundreds of little cataracts and falls. 
 
 Leaving this, though the sight of the little trout 
 darting about was temptation enough to make me 
 stay, we tramped on over the rugged ground, in and 
 out among stones or piled-up rocks, now skirting or 
 leaping boggy places dotted with cotton-rush, where 
 the bog-roots were here green and soft, there of a deli- 
 cate pinky white, where the water had been dried 
 away. 
 
 To a London boy, accustomed to country runs among 
 inclosed fields and hedges, or at times into a park or 
 upon a common, this vast stretch of hilly, wild unculti-
 
 48 A FOX. 
 
 vated land was glorious, and I was ready to see any 
 wonder without surprise. 
 
 It seemed to me, as we tramped on examining the 
 bits of stone, the herbs and flowers, that at any moment 
 we might come upon the lair of some wild beast; and 
 so we did over and over again, but it was not the den 
 of wolf or bear, but of a rabbit burrowed into the sandy 
 side of some great bank. Farther on we started a hare, 
 which went off in its curious hopping fashion to be out 
 of sight in a few moments. 
 
 Almost directly after, as we were clambering over a 
 steep slope, Uncle Bob stopped short, and stood there 
 sniffing. 
 
 "What is it?" I cried. 
 
 " Fox," he said, looking round. 
 
 "Nonsense!" cried Uncle Dick. 
 
 "You wouldn't find, eh? What a nasty, dank, sour 
 odour!" cried Uncle Jack, in his quiet, thoughtful 
 way. 
 
 " A fox has gone by here during the last few 
 minutes, I'm sure," cried Uncle Bob, looking round 
 searchingly. "I'll be bound to say he is up among 
 those tufts of ling and has just taken refuge there. 
 Spread out and hunt." 
 
 The tufts he pointed to were right on a ridge of the 
 hill we were climbing, and separating we hurried up 
 there just in time to see a little reddish animal, with 
 long, drooping, bushy tail, run in amongst the heath 
 fifty yards down the slope away to our left. 
 
 " That's the consequence of having a good nose," said 
 Uncle Bob triumphantly; and now, as we were on a 
 high eminence, we took a good look round so as to 
 make our plans. 
 
 "Hadn't we better turn back now?" said Uncle
 
 THE DOME TOR i9 
 
 Jack. " We shall have several hours' walk before we 
 get to Arrowfield, and shall have done as much as Cob 
 can manage." 
 
 " Oh, I'm not a bit tired!" I cried. 
 
 " Well," said Uncle Dick, " I think we had better go 
 forward. I'm not very learned over the topography of 
 the district, but if I'm not much mistaken that round 
 hill or mountain before us is Dome Tor." 
 
 "Well?" said Uncle Jack. 
 
 " Well, I propose that we make straight for it, go 
 over it, and then ask our way to the nearest town or 
 village where there is a railway -station, and ride 
 back." 
 
 "Capital!" I cried. 
 
 '' Whom will you ask to direct us?" said Uncle Jack 
 dryly. 
 
 "Ah! to be sure," said Uncle Bob. "I've seen 
 nothing but a sheep or two for hours, and they look 
 so horribly stupid I don't tliink it is of any use to ask 
 them." 
 
 " Oh ! we must meet some one if we keep on," said 
 Uncle Dick "What do you say? Seems a pity not 
 to climb that hill now we are so near." 
 
 " Yes, as we are out for a holiday," said Uncle Bob. 
 " After to-day we must put our necks in the collar and 
 work. I vote for Dick." 
 
 " So do I," said Uncle Jack. 
 
 "Come along then, boys," cried Uncle Dick; and 
 now we set ourselves steadily to get over the ground, 
 taking as straight a line as we could, but having to 
 deviate a good deal on account of streams and bogs 
 and rough patches of stone. But it was a glorious 
 walk, during which there was always something to 
 examine; and at last we felt that we were steadily 
 
 (322) D
 
 50 A.N ASCENT. 
 
 going up the great rounded mass known as Dome 
 Tor. 
 
 We had not been plodding far before I found that it 
 was entirely ditl'erent to the hills we had climbed that 
 day, for, in place of great masses of rugged, weather- 
 worn rock, the stone we found here and there was 
 slaty and splintery, the narrow tracks up which we 
 walked being full of slippery fragments, making it tire- 
 some travelling. 
 
 These tracks were evidently made by the sheep, of 
 which we saw a few here and there, but no shepherd, 
 no houses, nothing to break the utter solitude of the 
 scene, and as we paused for a rest about half-way up 
 Uncle Dick looked round at the glorious prospect, 
 bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. 
 
 "Ah!" he said, "this is beautiful nature. Over 
 yonder, at Arrowfield, we shall have nature to deal 
 with that is not beautiful. But come, boys, I want a 
 big meat tea, and we've miles to go yet before we can 
 get it." 
 
 We all jumped up and tramped on, with a curious 
 sensation coming into my legs, as if the joints wanted 
 oiling. But I said nothing, onl}^ trudged away, on and 
 on, till at last we reached the rounded top, hot, out of 
 breath, and glad to inhale the fresh breeze that was 
 blowing. 
 
 The view was splendid, but the sun had set, and 
 there were clouds beginning to gather, while, on looking 
 round, though we could see a house here and a house 
 there in the distance, it did not seem very clear to 
 either of us which way we were to go. 
 
 " We are clever ones," said Uncle Dick, " starting out 
 on a trip like this without a pocket guide and a 
 map: never mind, our way must be west, and sooner
 
 A SUDDEN MIST. 61 
 
 or later we shall come to a road, and then to a 
 village." 
 
 "But we shall never be able to reach a railway-sta- 
 tion to-night," said Uncle Bob. 
 
 "Not unless we try," said Uncle Jack in his dry 
 way. 
 
 "Then let's try," said Uncle Dick, "and — well, that 
 is strange." 
 
 As we reached the top the wind had been blowing 
 sharply in our faces, but this had ceased while we had 
 been lying about admiring the prospect, and in place 
 a few soft moist puii's had come from quite another 
 quarter; and as we looked there seemed to be a cloud 
 of white smoke starting up out of a valley below us. 
 As we watched it we suddenly became aware of 
 another rolling along the short rough turf and over 
 the shaly paths. Then a patch seemed to form here, 
 another there, and these patches appeared to be stretch- 
 ing out their hands to each other all round the moun- 
 tain till they formed a gray bank of mist, over the top 
 of which we could see the distant country. 
 
 "We must be moving," said Uncle Dick, "or we shall 
 be lost in the fog. North-west must be our way, but 
 let's push down here where the slope's easy, and get 
 beyond the mist, and then we can see what we had 
 better do." 
 
 He led the way, and before we could realize it the 
 dense white steamy fog was all around us, and we 
 could hardly see each other. 
 
 "All right!" said Uncle Dick; "keep together." 
 
 "Can you see where you are going, Dick?" said 
 Uncle Jack. 
 
 "No, I'm as if I was blindfolded with a white crape 
 handkerchief."
 
 52 A SHOCK. 
 
 "No precipices here, are there?" I cried nervously, 
 for it seemed so strange to be walking through this 
 dense mist. 
 
 "No, I hope not," cried Uncle Dick out of the mist 
 ahead. "You keep talking, and follow me, I'll answer 
 you, or else we shall be separated, and that won't do 
 now. All right!" 
 
 "All rioht!" we chorused back. 
 
 "All right!" cried Uncle Dick; "nice easy slope here, 
 but slippery." 
 
 "All right!" we chorused. 
 
 "All ri— Take— " 
 
 We stopped short in horror wondering what had 
 happened, for Uncle Dick's words seemed cut in two, 
 there was a rustling scramblinor sound, and then all 
 was white fog and silence, broken only by our panting 
 breath. 
 
 "Dick! where are you?" cried Uncle Jack taking a 
 step forward. 
 
 "Mind!" cried Uncle Bob, catching him by the arm. 
 
 It was well he did, for that was the rustling scram- 
 bling noise again falling on my ears, with a panting 
 struggle, and two voices in the dense fog seeming to 
 utter ejaculations of horror and dread.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A NIGHT OF ANXIETY. 
 
 LOOKED in the direction from which the 
 sounds came, but there was nothing visible, 
 save the thick white fog, and in my excite- 
 ment and horror, thinking I was looking in 
 the wrong direction, I turned sharply round. 
 
 White foG:. 
 
 I looked in another direction. 
 
 White fog:. 
 
 Then I seemed to lose my head altogether, and hui-- 
 ried here and there with my hands extended, completely 
 astray. 
 
 It only took moments, swift moments, for all this to 
 take place, and then I heard voices that I knew, but 
 sounding muffled and as if a long way off. 
 
 "Cob! where are you. Cob?" 
 
 "Here," I shouted. "I'll try and come." 
 
 "No, no!" — it was Uncle Jack who spoke — "don't 
 stir for your life." 
 
 "But," I shouted, with my voice sounding as if I was 
 covered with a blanket, "I want to come to you." 
 
 "Stop where you are," he cried. "I command you." 
 
 I stayed where I was, and the next moment a fresh 
 voice cried to me, as if pitying my condition: 
 
 "Cob. lad."
 
 54 THE HORRIBLE rRECIPlCE. 
 
 "Yes," I cried. 
 
 "There is a horrible precipice. Don't stir. 
 
 It was Uncle Bob who said this to comfort nie, and 
 make me safe from running risks, but he made me turn 
 all of a cold perspiration, and I stood there shivering, 
 listening to the murmur of voices that came to me in a 
 stitied way. 
 
 At last I could bear it no longer. It seemed so 
 strange. Only a minute or two ago we were all together 
 on the top of a great hill admiring the prospect. Now 
 we were separated. Then all seemed open and clear, 
 and we were looking away for miles: now I seemed 
 shut in by this pale white gloom that stopped my sight, 
 and almost my hearing, while it numbed and confused 
 my faculties in a way that 1 could not have felt pos- 
 sible. 
 
 "Uncle Jack!" I cried, as a sudden recollection came 
 back of a cry I had heard. 
 
 "He is not here," cried Uncle Bob. "He is trying to 
 find a way down." 
 
 "Where is Uncle Dick?" 
 
 "Hush, boy! don't ask." 
 
 "But, uncle, I may come to you, may I not?" I cried, 
 trembling with the dread of what had happened, for in 
 spite of my confused state I realized now that Uncle 
 Dick must have fallen. 
 
 "My boy," he shouted back, "I daren't say yes. The 
 place ends here in a terrible way. We two nearly went 
 over, and I dare not stir, for I cannot see a yard from 
 my feet. I am on a very steep slope too." 
 
 "But where has Uncle Jack gone then?" 
 
 "Ahoy!" came from somewhere behind me, and 
 apparently below. 
 
 "Ahoy! Uncle Jack," I yelled.
 
 THE PERIL INCREASES. 55 
 
 "Ahoy, boy! I want to come to you. Keep shouting 
 here — he ? 'e — here. 
 
 I did as he bade me, and he kept answering me, and 
 for a minute or two he seemed to be coming nearer. 
 Then his voice sounded more distant, and more distant 
 still; then ceased. 
 
 "Cob, I can't hear him," came from near me out of 
 the dense gloom. "Can you?" 
 
 "No!" I said with a shiver. 
 
 "Ahoy, Jack!" roared Uncle Bob. 
 
 "Ahoy — y!" came from a distance in a curiously 
 stifled way. 
 
 "Give it up till the fog clears off. Stand still." 
 
 There was no reply, and once more the terrible 
 silence seemed to clinch round me. The o-loom increased, 
 and I sank on my knees, not daring to stand now, but 
 listening, if I may say so, with all my might. 
 
 What had happened? What was going to happen? 
 Were we to stay there all night in the darkness, 
 shivering with cold and damp? Only a little while 
 ago I had been tired and hot; now I did not feel the 
 fatigue, but was shivering with cold, and my hands 
 and face were wet. 
 
 I wanted to call out to Uncle Bob again, but the 
 sensation came over me — the strange, wild fancy that 
 something had happened to him, and I dared not speak 
 for fear of finding that it was true. 
 
 All at once as I knelt there, listening intently for the 
 slirrhtest sound, I fancied I heard some one breathing^. 
 Then the sound stopped. Then it came nearer, and 
 the dense mist parted, and a figure was upon me, 
 crawling close by me without seeing me; and ciying 
 " Uncle Bob ! " I started forward and caught at him 
 as I thought. My hands seized moist wool for a
 
 56 STANDING FAST. 
 
 moment, and then it was jerked out of my hands, as, 
 with a fi'ig-htened Baa! its wearer bounded away. 
 
 "What's that?" came from my left and below me, 
 in the same old suffocated tone. 
 
 "A sheep," I cried, trembling with the start the 
 creature had given me. 
 
 " Did you see which way it went?" 
 
 " Yes — beyond me." 
 
 " Then it must be safe your way. Cob. I'll try and 
 crawl to you, lad, but I'm so unnerved I can hardly 
 make up my mind to stir." 
 
 " Let me come to you," I cried. 
 
 "No,. no! I'll try and get to you. Where are you?" 
 
 " Here," I cried. 
 
 "All right!" came back in answer; but matters did 
 not seem all right, for Uncle Bob's voice suddenly 
 seemed to grow more distant, and when I shouted to 
 him my cry came back as if I had put my face against 
 a wall and spoken within an inch or two thereof. 
 
 " I think we'd better give it up, Cob," he shouted 
 now from somewhere quite different. It is not safe to 
 stir." 
 
 I did not think so, and determined to make an 
 attempt to get to him. 
 
 For, now that I had grown a little used to the fog, 
 it did not seem so appalling, though it had grown 
 thicker and darker till I seemed quite shut in. 
 
 " I'll stop where I am. Cob," came now as if from 
 above me; "and I daresay in a short time the wind 
 will rise." 
 
 I answered, but I felt as if I could not keep still. I 
 had been scared by the sudden separation from my 
 companions, but the startled feeling having passed 
 away I did not realize the extent of our danger. In
 
 I GROW BOLDER. 57 
 
 fact it seemed absurd for three strong men and a lad 
 like me to be upset in this way by a mist. 
 
 Uncle Dick had had a fall, but I would not l)elieve 
 it had been serious. Perhaps he had only slipped 
 down some long slope. 
 
 I crouched there in the darkness, straining my eyes 
 to try and pierce the mist, and at last, unable to re- 
 strain my impatience, I began to crawl slowly on hands 
 and knees in the direction whence my uncle's voice 
 seemed to come. 
 
 I crept a yard at a time very carefully, feeling round 
 with my hands before I ventured to move, and satis- 
 fying myself that the ground was solid all around. 
 
 It seemed so easy, and it was so impossible that I 
 could come to any harm this way, that I grew more 
 confident, and passing my hand over the rough shale 
 chips that were spread around amongst the short grass, 
 I began to wonder how my uncles could have been so 
 timid, and not have made a brave effort to escape from 
 our difficulty. 
 
 I kept on, growing more and more confident each 
 moment in spite of the thick darkness that surrounded 
 me, for it seemed so much easier than crouching there 
 doing nothing for myself. But I went very cautiously, 
 for I found I was on a steep slope, and that very little 
 would have been required to send me sliding down. 
 
 Creep, creep, creep, a yard in two or three minutes, 
 but still I was progressing somewhere, and even at 
 this rate I thought that I could join either of my com- 
 panions when I chose. 
 
 I had made up my mind to go a few yards further 
 and then speak, feeling sure that I should be close to 
 Uncle Bob, and that then we could go on together and 
 find Uncle Jack.
 
 58 A NARROW ESCAPE. 
 
 I had just come to this conclusion, and was thrusting 
 out my right hand again, when, as I tried to set it 
 down, there was nothing there. 
 
 I drew it in sharply and set it down close to the 
 other as I knelt, and then passed it slowly from me 
 over the loose scraps of slaty stone to find it touch the 
 edge of a bank that seemed to have been cut off per- 
 pendicularly, and on passing my hand over, it touched 
 first soft turf and earth and then scrappy loose frag- 
 ments of shale. 
 
 This did not startle me, for it appeared to be only a 
 little depression in the ground, but thrusting out one 
 foot I found that go over too, so that I knew I must 
 be parallel with the edge of the trench or crack in the 
 earth. 
 
 I picked up a piece of shale and threw it from me, 
 listening for its fall, but no sound came, so I sat down 
 with one leg over the depression and kicked with my 
 heel to loosen a bit of the soil. 
 
 1 was a couple of feet back, and as I kicked I felt 
 the ground I sat upon quiver; then there was a loud 
 rushing sound, and I threw myself down clinging with 
 my hands, for a great piece of the edge right up to 
 where I sat had given way and gone down, leaving me 
 with my legs hanging over the edge, and but for my 
 sudden effort I should have fallen. 
 
 " What was that?" cried a voice some distance above 
 me. 
 
 "It is I, Uncle Bob," I panted. "Come and help 
 me. 
 
 I heard a fierce drawing in of the breath, and then 
 a low crawling sound, and little bits of stone seemed 
 to be moved close by me. 
 
 " Where are you, boy?" came again.
 
 rOLD AND DAMP. 59 
 
 "Here." 
 
 "Can you crawl to me? I'm close by your head." 
 
 "No," I gasped. "If I move I'm afraid I shall fall." 
 
 There was the same fierce drawing in of the breath, 
 the crawling sound again, and a hand touched my face, 
 passed round it, and took a tight hold of my collar. 
 
 "Lie quite still, Cob," was whispered; "I'm going to 
 draw you up. Now!" 
 
 I felt myself dragged up suddenly, and at the same 
 moment the earth and stones upon which I had been 
 lying dropped from under me with a loud hissing 
 rushing sound, and then I was lying quite still, cling- 
 ing to Uncle Bob's hand, which was very wet and 
 cold. 
 
 " How did you come there?" he said at length. 
 
 " Crawled there, trying to get to you," I said. 
 
 "And nearly went down that fearful precipice, you 
 foolish fellow. But there: you are safe." 
 
 " I did not know it was so dangerous," I faltered. 
 
 " Dangerous!" he cried. "It is awful in this horrible 
 darkness. The mountain seems to have been cut in 
 half somewhere about here, and this fo^ confuses so 
 that it is impossible to stir. We must wait till it 
 blows off. I think we are safe now, but I dare not 
 try to find a better place. Dare you?" 
 
 " Not after what I have just escaped from," I said 
 dolefully. 
 
 "Are you cold ?" 
 
 "Ye-es," I said with a shiver. " It is so damp." 
 
 " Creep close to me, then," he said. " We shall keep 
 each other warm." 
 
 We sat like that for hours, and still the fog kept as 
 dense as ever, only that overhead there was a faiiit 
 light, which grew stronger and then died out over and
 
 60 THE BREEZE AT LAST. 
 
 over again. The stillness was awful, but I had a com- 
 panion, and that made my position less painful. He 
 would not talk, though as a rule he was very bright 
 and chatty; now he would only say, "Wait and see;" 
 and we waited. 
 
 The change came, after those long terrilJe hours of 
 anxiety, like magic. One moment it was thick dark- 
 ness; the next I felt, as it were, a feather brush across 
 ni}'- cheek. 
 
 "Did you feel that ?" I said quickly. 
 
 "Feel what. Cob?" 
 
 "Something breathing aofainst us?" 
 
 "No — yes!" he cried joyfully. "It was the wind." 
 
 The same touch came again, but stronger. There 
 was light above our heads. I could dimly see my 
 companion, and then a cloud that looked white and 
 strange in the moonlight was gliding slowly away from 
 us over what seemed to be a vast black chasm whose 
 edge was only a few yards away. 
 
 It was wonderful how quickly that mist departed 
 and went skimming away into the distance, as if a 
 great curtain were being drawn, leaving the sky spark- 
 ling with stars and the moon shining bright and clear. 
 
 "You see now the danger from which you escaped?" 
 said Uncle Bob with a shudder. 
 
 "Yes," I said; "but did — do you think " 
 
 He looked at me without answering, and just then 
 there came from behind us a loud "Ahoy!" 
 
 "Ahoy!" shouted back Uncle Bob; and as we turned 
 in the direction of the cry we could see Uncle Jack 
 waving his white handkerchief to us, and we were 
 soon after by his side. 
 
 They gripped hands without a word as they met, 
 and then after a short silence Uncle Jack said:
 
 A HUNT FOR THE LOST. 61 
 
 "We had better get on and descend on the other 
 side." 
 
 "But Uncle Dick!" I cried impetuously; "are you 
 not going to search for Uncle Dick?" 
 
 The brothers tui'ned upon me quite fiercely, but 
 neither of them spoke; and for the next hour we went 
 stumbling on down the steep slope of the great hill, 
 trying to keep to the sheep - tracks, which showed 
 pretty plainly in the moonlight, but every now and 
 then we went astray. 
 
 My uncles were wonderfully quiet, but they kept 
 steadily on; and I did not like to break their com- 
 munings, and so trudged behind them, noting that 
 they kept as near as seemed practicable to the place 
 where the mountain ended in a precipice; and now 
 after some walkino- I could look back and see that the 
 moon was shining full upon the face of the hill, which 
 looked gray and as if one end had been dug right 
 away. 
 
 On we went silently and with a settled determined 
 aim, about which no one spoke, but perhaps thought 
 all the more. 
 
 I know that I thouo-ht so much about the end of 
 our quest that I kept shuddering as I trudged on, with 
 sore feet, feeling that in a short time we should be 
 turning sharp round to our left so as to get to the foot 
 of the great precipice, where the hill had been gnawed 
 away by time, and where the loose earth still kept 
 shiverina: down. 
 
 It was as I expected; we turned sharp off to the 
 left and were soon walkino; with our faces towards the 
 gray-looking face, that at first looked high, but, as we 
 went on, towered up more and more till the height 
 seemed terrific.
 
 62 THE WEARY SEARCH. 
 
 It was a weary heart-rending walk before we reached 
 the hill-like slope where the loose shal}' rock and earth 
 was ever falling to add to the debris up which we 
 climbed. 
 
 " There's no telling exactly where he must have come 
 over," said Uncle Jack, after we had searched about 
 some time, expecting moment by moment to come 
 upon the insensible form of our companion. " We must 
 spread out more." 
 
 For we neither of us would own to the possibility of 
 Uncle Dick being killed. For my part I imagined that 
 he would have a broken leg, perhaps, or a sprained 
 ankle. If he had fallen head-first he might have put 
 out his shoulder or broken his collar-bone. I would 
 not imagine anything worse. 
 
 The moon was not so clear now, for fleecy clouds 
 began to sail across it and made the search more diffi- 
 cult, as we clambered on over the shale, which in the 
 steepest parts gave way under our feet. But I deter- 
 minedly climbed on, sure that if I got very high up I 
 should be able to look down and see where Uncle Dick 
 was lying. 
 
 To this end I toiled higher and higher, till I could 
 fairly consider that I was touching the face of the 
 mountain where the slope of debris began; and I now 
 found that the precipice sloped too, being anything 
 but perpendicular. 
 
 " Can you see him. Cob?" cried Uncle Jack from below. 
 
 " No," I said despondently. 
 
 "Stay where you are," he cried again, "quite still." 
 
 That was impossible, for where I stood the shale 
 was so small and loose that I was sliding down slowly; 
 but I made very little noise, and just then Uncle Jack 
 uttered a tremendous —
 
 NO ECHO. 63 
 
 "Dick, ahoy!" 
 
 There was a pause and he shouted again: 
 
 "Dick, ahoy!" 
 
 "Ahoy!" came back faintly from somewhere a long 
 way oft". 
 
 "There he is!" I cried. 
 
 "No — an echo," said Uncle Jack. "Ahoy!" 
 
 "Ahoy!" came back. 
 
 " There, you see — an echo." 
 
 "Ahoy!" came again. 
 
 " That's no echo," cried Uncle Bob joyfully. " Dick!" 
 
 He shouted as loudly as he could. 
 
 "Ahoy!" 
 
 "There! it was no echo. He's all right; and after 
 falling down here he has worked his way out and 
 round the other side, where we went up first, while we 
 came down the other way and missed him. 
 
 "Dick, ahoy!" he shouted again; "where away?" 
 
 "Ahoy!" come back, and we had to consult. 
 
 " If we go up one way to meet him he will come 
 down the other," said Uncle Bob. " There's nothing 
 for it but to wait till morninij or divide, and one of 
 us go up one side while the other two go up the 
 other." 
 
 Uncle Jack snapped his watch-case down after ex- 
 amining the face by the pale light of the moon. 
 
 " Two o'clock," he said, throwing himself on the loose 
 shale. " Ten minutes ago, when we were in doubt, I 
 felt as if I could go on for hours with the search. 
 Now I know that poor old Dick is alive I can't walk 
 another yard." 
 
 I had slipped and scrambled down to him now, and 
 Uncle Bob turned to me. 
 
 "How are you. Cob?" he said.
 
 04 NOT BROKEN. 
 
 ' The skin is off one of my heels, and I have a blister 
 on iny big toe." 
 
 " And I'm dead beat," said Uncle Bob, sinking down. 
 " You're right. Jack, we must have a rest. Let's wait 
 till it's light. It will be broad day by four o'clock, and 
 we can signal to him which way to come." 
 
 I nestled down close to him, relieved in mind and 
 body, and I was just thinking that though scraps of 
 slaty stone and brashy earth were not good things for 
 stuffing a feather-bed, they were, all the same, very com- 
 fortable for a weary person to lie upon, when I felt a 
 hand laid upon my shoulder, and opening my eyes 
 found the sun shining brightly and Uncle Dick look- 
 ing down in my face. 
 
 " Have I been asleep ? " I said confusedly. 
 
 " Four hours. Cob," said Uncle Jack. " You lay 
 down at two. It is now six." 
 
 " But I dreamed something about you. Uncle Dick," 
 I said confusedly. " I thought you were lost." 
 
 " Well, not exactly lost, Cob," he said; " but I slipped 
 over that tremendous slope up yonder, and came down 
 with a rush, stunning myself and making a lot of 
 bruises that are very sore. I must have come down a 
 terrible distance, and I lay, I suppose, for a couple of 
 hours before I could get up and try to make my way 
 back." 
 
 " But you are not — not broken," I cried, now thor- 
 oughly awake and holding his hand. 
 
 "No, Cob," he said smiling; "not broken, but starv- 
 ing and very faint." 
 
 A three miles' walk took us to where we obtained a 
 very hearty breakfast, and here the farmer willingly 
 drove us to the nearest station, from whence by a 
 roundabout wav we journeyed back to Arrowfield, and
 
 MRS. Stephenson's impression. 65 
 
 found the landlady in conference with Mr. Tomplin, 
 who had come to our place on receiving a message from 
 Mrs. Stephenson that we had gone down to the works 
 and not returned, her impression being that the men 
 had drowned us all in the dam. 
 
 
 :392) E
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 "DO LET ME COME. 
 
 HE rest of the week soon slipped by, and my 
 uncles took possession of the works, but not 
 peaceably. 
 
 The agent who had had the letting went 
 down to meet my uncles and give them formal posses- 
 sion. 
 
 When he got there he was attacked by the work- 
 people, with words first, and then with stones and pails 
 of water. 
 
 The consequence was that he went home with a cut 
 head and his clothes soaked. 
 
 "But what's to be done?" said Uncle Dick to him. 
 " We want the place according to the agreement." 
 
 The agent looked up, holding one hand to his head, 
 and looking white and scared. 
 
 "Call themselves men!" he said. "I call them wild 
 beasts." 
 
 " Call them what you like," said Uncle Dick; " wild 
 beasts if you will, but get them out." 
 
 " But I can't," groaned the man dismally. " See 
 what a state I'm in! They've spoiled my second best 
 suit." 
 
 " Very tiresome," said Uncle Dick, who was growing
 
 PREPARING FOR THE EXPEDITION. 67 
 
 impatient; " but are you going to gut these people out? 
 We've two truck -loads of machinery waiting to be 
 delivered." 
 
 "Don't I tell you I can't," said the agent angrily. 
 " Take possession yourself. There, I give you leave." 
 
 " Very well," said Uncle Dick. " You assure me that 
 these men have no legal right to be there." 
 
 " Not the slightest. They were only allowed to be 
 there till the place was let." 
 
 "That's right; then we take possession at once, sir." 
 
 "And good luck to you!" said the agent as we went 
 out. 
 
 " What are you going to do?" asked Uncle Bob. 
 
 " Take possession." 
 
 "When?" 
 
 "To-night. Will you come?" 
 
 "Will I come?" said Uncle Bob with a half laugh. 
 " You might as well ask Jack." 
 
 " It may mean trouble to-morrow." 
 
 " There's nothing done without trouble," said Uncle 
 Bob coolly. " I like ease better, but I'll take my share." 
 
 I was wildly excited, and began thinking that we 
 should all be armed with swords and guns, so that I 
 was terribly disappointed when that evening I found 
 Uncle Dick enter the room with a brown-paper parcel 
 in his hand that looked like a book, and followed by 
 Uncle Jack looking as peaceable as could be. 
 
 " Where's Uncle Bob?" I said. 
 
 " Waitino; for us outside." 
 
 " Why doesn't he come in?" 
 
 " He's busy." 
 
 I wondered what Uncle Bob was busy about; but I 
 noticed that my uncles were preparing for the ex- 
 pedition, putting some tools and a small lantern in a
 
 G8 PITER. 
 
 travelling-bag. After this Uncle Jack took it open 
 down-stairs ready for starting. 
 
 " Look here, Cob," said Uncle Dick; " we are going 
 down to the works." 
 
 "What! To-night?" 
 
 " Yes, my lad, to-night." 
 
 " But you can't get in. The men have the key." 
 
 " I have the agent's keys. There are two sets, and 
 I am going down now. Look here; take a book and 
 amuse yourself, and go to bed in good time. Perhaps 
 we shall be late." 
 
 " Why, you are going to stop all night," I cried, " so 
 as to be there before the men?" 
 
 " I confess," he said, laughing in my excited face. 
 
 " And I sha'n't see any of the fun," I cried. 
 
 " There will not be any fun. Cob." 
 
 " Oh, yes, there will, uncle," I said. " I say, do let 
 me come." 
 
 He shook his head, and as I could make no impres- 
 sion on him I gave up, and slipped down to Uncle 
 Jack, who was watching Mrs. Stephenson cut some 
 huge sandwiches for provender during the night. 
 
 " I say, uncle," I whispered, " I know what you are 
 going to do. Take me." 
 
 " No, no," he said. " It will be no work for boys." 
 
 He was so quiet and stern that I felt it was of no 
 use to press him, so I left the kitchen and went to the 
 front door to try Uncle Bob for my last resource. 
 
 I opened the door gently, and started back, for there 
 was a savage growl, and I just made out the dark form 
 of a big-headed dog tugging at a string. 
 
 " Down, Piter!" said Uncle Bob. " Who is it? You, 
 Cob? Here, Piter, make friends with him. Come out." 
 
 I went out rather slowly, for the dog was growling
 
 A GARRISON FOR THE FORT. 69 
 
 ominously; but at a word from Uncle Bob he ceased, 
 and began to smell me all round the legs, stopping 
 longest about my calves, as if he thought that would 
 be the best place for a bite. 
 
 " Pat him, Cob, and pull his eai\s." 
 
 I stooped down rather unwillingly, and began pat- 
 ting the ugliest head I ever saw in my life. For Piter 
 — otherwise Jupiter — was a brindled bull-dog with an 
 enormous head, protruding lower jaw, pinched-in nose, 
 and oprirmins: teeth. The sides of his head seemed 
 swollen, and his chest broad, his body lank and lean, 
 ending in a shabby little thin tail. 
 
 "Why, he has no ears," I said. 
 
 "They are cut pretty short, poor fellow. But isn't 
 he a beauty. Cob?" 
 
 "Beauty!" I said, laughing. "But where did you get 
 him?" 
 
 "Mr. Tomplin has lent him to us." 
 
 "But what for?" 
 
 "Garrison for the fort," my boy. "I think we can 
 trust him." 
 
 I commenced my attack then. 
 
 "I should so like to go!" I said. " It isn't as if I was 
 a nuisance. I wasn't so bad when we were out all 
 night by Dome Tor." 
 
 "Well, there, I'll talk them over," he said. "Here, you 
 stop and hold the dog, while I go in." 
 
 "What, hold him?" 
 
 "Yes, to be sure. I won't be long." 
 
 "But, uncle," I said, "he looks such a brute, as if he'd 
 eat a fellow." 
 
 "My dear Cob, I shan't be above a quarter of an 
 hour. He couldn't get through more^han one leg by 
 that time."
 
 70 \YE FRATERNIZE. 
 
 "Now you're laughing at me," I said. 
 
 "Hold the dog, then, you young coward!" 
 
 "I'm not," I said in an injured tone; and I caught at 
 the leather thong, for if it had been a lion I should 
 have held on then. 
 
 I wanted to say, "Don't be long," but I was ashamed, 
 and I looked rather wistfully over my shoulder as he 
 went in, leaving me with the dog. 
 
 Piter uttered a low whine as the door closed, and 
 then growled angrily and gave a short deep-toned 
 bark. 
 
 This done, he growled at me, smelled me all round, 
 making my legs seem to curdle as his blunt nose 
 touched them, and then after winding the thong round 
 me twice he stood up on his hind-legs, placing his 
 paws against my chest and his ugly muzzle between 
 them. 
 
 My heart was beating fast, but the act was so 
 friendly that I patted the great head; and the end of 
 it was, that I sat down on the door-step, and when 
 Uncle Bob came out asfain Piter and I had fraternized, 
 and he had been showinij me as hard as he could that 
 he was my born slave, that he was ready for a bit of 
 fun at any time, and also to defend me against any 
 enemy who should attack. 
 
 Piter's ways were simple. To show the first he 
 licked my hand. For the second, he turned over on his 
 back, patted at me with his paws, and mumbled my 
 legs, took a hold of my trousers and dragged at them, 
 and butted at me with his bullet head. For the last, 
 he suddenly sprang to his feet as a step was heard, 
 crouched by me ready for a spring, and made some 
 thunder inside him somewhere. 
 
 This done, he tried to show me what fun it was to
 
 A TOWN DOG. 71 
 
 tie himself up in a knot with the leathern thong, and 
 strangle himself till his eyes stood out of his head. 
 
 "Why, you have made friends," said Uncle Bob, 
 coming out. "Good dog, then." 
 
 "May I go?" I said eagerly. 
 
 "Yes. They've given in. I had a hard fight, sir, so 
 you must do me credit." 
 
 Half an hour after, we four were on our way to our 
 own works, just as if we were stealing through the 
 dark to commit a burglary, and I noticed that though 
 there were no swords and guns, each of my uncles 
 carried a very stout heavy stick, that seemed to me 
 like a yard of bad headache, cut very thick. 
 
 The streets looked very miserable as we advanced, 
 leaving behind us the noise and roar and glow of the 
 panting machinery which every now and then whistled 
 and screamed as if rejoicing over the metal it was cut- 
 ting and forming and working into endless shapes. 
 There behind us was the red cloud against which the 
 light from a thousand furnaces was glowing, while 
 every now and then came a deafening roar as if some 
 explosion had taken place. 
 
 I glanced down at Piter expecting to see him startled, 
 but he was Arrowfield born, and paid not the slightest 
 heed to noise, passing through a bright flash of light 
 that shot from an open door as if it were the usual 
 thing, and he did not even twitch his tail as we walked 
 on by a wall that seemed to quiver and shake as some 
 great piece of machinery worked away, throbbing and 
 thudding inside. 
 
 "Here we are at last," said Uncle Dick, as we reached 
 the corner of our place, where a lamp shed a ghastly 
 kind of glow upon the dark triangular shaped dam. 
 
 The big stone building looked silent and ghostly in
 
 72 PROCEEDINGS IN BURGLARY. 
 
 the gloom, while the great chimney stood up like a 
 giant sentry watching over it, and placed there by the 
 men whom it was our misfortune to have to dislodofe. 
 
 We had a perfect right to be there, but one and all 
 spoke in whispers as we looked round at the buildings 
 about, to see in one of a row of houses that there were 
 lights, and in a big stone building similar to ours the 
 faint glow of a lire left to smoulder till the mornins:. 
 But look which way we would, there was not a soul 
 about, and all was still. 
 
 As we drew closer I could hear the dripping of the 
 water as it ran in by the wheel where it was not 
 securely stopped; and every now and then there was 
 an echoing plash from the great shut-in cave, but no 
 light in any of the windows. 
 
 "Come and hold the bag. Jack," whispered Uncle 
 Dick; and then laughingly as we grouped about the 
 gate with the dog sniffing at the bottom: "If you see 
 a policeman coming, give me fair warning. I hope that 
 dog will not bark. I feel just like a burglar." 
 
 Piter uttered a low growl, but remained silent, 
 while Uncle Dick opened the gate and we entered. 
 
 As soon as we were inside the yard the bag was put 
 under requisition again, a great screw-driver taken out, 
 the lantern lit, and with all the skill and expedition of 
 one accustomed to the use of tools, Uncle Dick un- 
 screwed and took off the lock, laid it aside, and fitted 
 on, very ingeniously, so that the old key-hole should 
 do again, one of the new patent locks he had brought 
 with him in the brown-paper parcel I had seen. 
 
 This took some little time, but it was effected at 
 last, and Uncle Dick said: 
 
 " That is something towards making the place our 
 own. Their key will not be worth much now."
 
 TAKING POSSESSION BY NIOHT. 73 
 
 Securing the gate by turning the key of the new 
 lock, we went next to the door leading into the works, 
 which was also locked, but the key the agent had 
 supplied opened it directly, and this time Uncle Dick 
 held box and lantern while Uncle Jack took off the 
 old and fitted on the second new lock that we had 
 brought. 
 
 It was a curious scene in the darkness of that great 
 stone- floored echoing place, where an observer who 
 watched would have seen a round glass eye shedding 
 a bright light on a particular part of the big dirty 
 door, and in the golden ring the bull's-eye made, a pair 
 of large white hands busy at work fixing, turning a 
 gimlet, putting in and fastening screws, while only 
 now and then could a face be seen in the ring of 
 light. 
 
 " There," said Uncle Jack at last, as he turned the 
 well-oiled key and made the bolt of the lock play in 
 and out of its socket, "now I think we can call the 
 place our own." 
 
 "I say. Uncle Bob," I whispered — I don't know why, 
 unless it was the darkness that made me speak low 
 — " I should like to see those fellows' faces when they 
 come to the o-ate to-morrow mornino-." 
 
 " Especially Old Squintum's," said Uncle Bob laugh- 
 ing. " Pleasant countenance that man has. Col >. If 
 ever he is modelled I should like to have a copy. 
 Now, boys, what next ? " 
 
 "Next!" said Uncle Dick; "we'll just have a look 
 round this place and see what there is belonging to 
 the men, and we'll put all together so as to be able to 
 give it up when they come." 
 
 "The small grindstones are theirs, are they not?" 
 said Uncle Bob.
 
 74 BY bull's-eye light. 
 
 "No; the agent says that everything belongs to the 
 \vorks and will be found in the inventory. All we 
 have to turn out will be the blades they are grinding." 
 
 Uncle Dick went forward from grindstone to grind- 
 stone, but only in one place was anything waiting to 
 be ground, and that was a bundle of black-looking, 
 newly-forged scythe blades, neatly tied up with bands 
 of wire. 
 
 He went on from end to end, making the light play 
 on grindstone, trough, and the rusty sand that lay 
 al)Out; but nothing else was to be seen, and after 
 reaching the door leading into the great chamber 
 where the water-wheel revolved, he turned back the 
 light, looking like some dancing will-o'-the-wisp as he 
 directed it here and there, greatly to the puzzlement 
 of Piter, to whom it was something new. 
 
 He tuo-cred at the stout leathern thonoc once or twice, 
 but I held on and he ceased, contenting himself with 
 a low uneasy whine now and then, and looking up to 
 me with his great protruding eyes, as if for an ex- 
 planation. 
 
 " Now let's have a look round upwards," said Uncle 
 Dick. " I'm glad the men have left so few of their 
 traps here. Cob, my lad, you need not hold that dog. 
 Take the swivel oti" his collar and let him go. He 
 can't get away." 
 
 " Besides," said Uncle Bob, " this is to be his home." 
 
 I stooped down and unhooked th(; spring swivel, to 
 Piter's great delight, which he displayed by scuffling 
 about our feet, trying to get himself trodden upon by 
 all in turn, and ending by making a rush at the bull's- 
 eye lantern, and knocking his head against the round 
 glass. 
 
 " Pretty little creature!" said Uncle Bob. "Well, I
 
 "SOMEONE there!" 75 
 
 should have given him credit for more sense than a 
 moth." 
 
 Piter growled as if he were dissatisfied with the 
 result, and then his hideous little crinkled black nose 
 was seen as he smelt the lantern all round, and, ap- 
 parently gratified by the odour of the oil, he licked his 
 black lips. 
 
 " Now then, upstairs," said Uncle Dick, leading the 
 way with the lantern, But as soon as the light fell 
 upon the flight of stone stairs Piter went to the front 
 with a rush, his claws pattered on the stones, and he 
 was up at the top waiting for us, after giving a scratch 
 at a rough door, his ugly countenance looking down 
 curiously out of the darkness. 
 
 "Good dog!" said Uncle Dick as he reached the 
 landing and unlatched the door. 
 
 Piter squeezed himself through almost before the 
 door was six inches open, and the next moment he 
 burst into a furious deep-mouthed bay. 
 
 "Someone there!" cried Uncle Dick, and he rushed 
 in, lantern in hand, to make the light play round, 
 while my uncles changed the hold of their stout sticks, 
 holding them cudgel fashion ready for action. 
 
 The light rested directly on the face and chest of a 
 man sitting up between a couple of rusty lathes, where 
 a quantity of straw had been thrown down, and at the 
 first glimpse it was evident that the dog had just 
 aroused him from a heavy sleep. 
 
 His eyes were half closed, bits of oat straw were 
 sticking in his short dark hair, and glistened like frag- 
 ments of pale gold in the light cast by the bull's-eye, 
 while two blackened and roughened hands were ap- 
 plied to his eyes as if he were trying to rub them 
 bright.
 
 76 IN CHARGE. 
 
 Piter's was an ugly face; but the countenance of an 
 ugly animal is pleasanter to look upon than that of an 
 ugly degraded human being, and as I saw the rough 
 stuljbly jaws open, displaying some yellow and black- 
 ened teeth that glistened in the light as their owner 
 yawned widely, I began to think our dog handsome by 
 comparison. 
 
 The man growled as if not yet awake, and rubbed 
 away at his eyes with his big fists, as if they, too, re- 
 quired a great deal of polishing to make them bright 
 enoufjh to see. 
 
 At last he dropped his fists and stared straight 
 before him — no, that's a mistake, he stared with the 
 range of his eyes crossing, and then seemed to have 
 some confused idea that there was a light before him, 
 and a dog making a noise, for he growled out : 
 
 "Lie down!" 
 
 Then, bending forward, he swept an arm round, as 
 if in search of something, which he caught hold of at 
 last, and we understood why he was so confused. For 
 it was a large stone bottle he had taken up. From this 
 he removed the cork with a dull jPoj9.' raised the bottle 
 with both hands, took a long draught, and corked the 
 bottle again with a sigh, set it down beside hiin, and 
 after yawning loudly shouted once more at the dog, 
 "Get out! Lie down!" 
 
 Then he settled himself as if about to do what he 
 had bidden the dog, but a gleam of intelligence ap- 
 peared to have come now into his brain. 
 
 Thei-e was no mistaking the man: it was the squint- 
 inor ruffian who had attacked us when we came first, 
 and there was no doubt that he had been staying there 
 to keep watch and hold the place against us, for a 
 candle was stuck in a ginger-beer bottle on the frame
 
 "police!" 77 
 
 of tlie lathe beyond him, and this candle had guttered 
 down and gone out. 
 
 We none of us spoke, but stood in the black shadow 
 invisible to the man, who could only see the bright 
 light of the bull's-eye staring him full in the face. 
 
 "Lie down, will yer!" he growled savagely. "Makin' 
 shut a row ! Lie down or " 
 
 He shouted this last in such a fierce tone of menace 
 that it would have scared some doars. 
 
 It had a different effect on Piter, who growled 
 angrily. 
 
 "Don't, then," shouted the man; "howl and bark — 
 make a row, but if yer touch me I'll take yer down 
 and drownd yer in the wheel-pit. D'yer hear? in the 
 wheel-pit!" 
 
 This was said in a low drowsy tone and as if the 
 fellow were nearly asleep, and as the light played upon 
 his half-closed dreamy eyes he muttered and stared at 
 it as if completely overcome by sleep. 
 
 It was perfectly ridiculous, and yet horrible, to see 
 that rough head and hideous face nodding and blink- 
 ing at the light as the fellow supported himself on 
 both his hands in an ape-like attitude that was more 
 animal than human. 
 
 All this was a matter of a minute or so, and then 
 the ugly cross eyes closed, opened sharply, and were 
 brought to bear upon the light one after the other by 
 movements of the head, just as a magpie looks at a 
 young bird before he kills it with a stroke of his 
 bill. 
 
 Then a glimpse of intelligence seemed to shoot from 
 them, and the man sat up sharply. 
 
 "What's that light?" he said roughly. "Police! 
 What do you want?"
 
 78 ARMED WITH A PISTOL, 
 
 " What are you doing here?" said Uncle Jack in his 
 deep voice. 
 
 "Doing, p'liceiuan! Keeping wetch. Set o' Lonnoners 
 trying to get howd o' wucks, and me and my mates 
 wean't hev 'em. Just keeping wetch. Good night!" 
 
 He sat up, staring harder at the light, and then 
 tried to see behind it. 
 
 "Well," he cried, "why don't you go, mate? Shut 
 door efter you." 
 
 "Hold the dog, Cob," said Uncle Jack. "Bob, you 
 take the lantern and open the door and the gate. Lay 
 hold of one side, Dick, I'll take the other, and we'll 
 put him out." 
 
 But the man was wide awake now; and as I darted 
 at Piter and got my hands in his collar and held him 
 back, the fellow made a dash at something lying on 
 the lathe, and as the lantern was changed from hand 
 to hand I caught siffht of the barrel of an old horse- 
 pistol. 
 
 "Take care!" I shouted, as I dragged Piter back. 
 "Pistol." 
 
 "Yes, pistol, do yer hear?" roared the fellow starting 
 up. "Pistol! and I'll shute the first as comes anigh 
 me." 
 
 There was a click here, and all was in darkness, for 
 Uncle Bob turned the shade of the lantern and hid it 
 within his coat. 
 
 " Put that pistol down, my man, and no harm shall 
 come to you; but you must get out of this place 
 directly." 
 
 "What! Get out! Yes, out you go, whoever you 
 are," roared the fellow. "I can see you, and I'll bring 
 down the first as stirs. This here's a good owd pistol, 
 and she hits hard. Now then open that light and let's
 
 A DANGEROUS AFFAIR. 79 
 
 see you go down. This here's my place and my mates', 
 and we don't want none else here. Now then." 
 
 I was struggling in the dark with Piter, and only 
 held him back, there was such strength in Ids small 
 body, by lifting him by his collar and holding him 
 against me standinij on his hind lefrs. 
 
 But, engaged as I was, I had an excited ear for what 
 was going on, and I trembled, as I expected to see the 
 flash of the pistol and feel its bullet strike me or the 
 dog. 
 
 As the man uttered his threats I heard a sharp 
 whispering and a quick movement or two in the dark, 
 and then all at once I saw the light open, and after 
 a flash here and there shine full upon the fellow, who 
 immediately turned the pistol on the holder of the 
 lantern. 
 
 "Now then," he cried, "yer give in, don't yer? Yes 
 or no 'fore I fires. Yah!" 
 
 He turned sharply round in my direction as I strug- 
 gled with Piter, whom the sight of the black-looking 
 rufiian had made furious. 
 
 But the man had not turned upon me. 
 
 He had caught sight of Uncle Jack springing at him, 
 the liffht showincj him as he advanced. 
 
 There was a flash, a loud report, and almost pre- 
 ceeding it, if not quite, the sound of a sharp rap given 
 with a stick upon flesh and bone. 
 
 The next instant there was a hoarse yell and the 
 noise made by the pistol falling upon the floor. 
 
 " Hurt, Jack?" cried Uncle Dick, as my heart seemed 
 to stand still. 
 
 " Scratched, that's all," was the reply. Here, come 
 and tie this wild beast's hands. I think I can hold 
 him now."
 
 80 LIKE FIGHTING A BULL. 
 
 It almost sounded like a rash assertion, as the light 
 played upon the desperate struggle that was going on. 
 I could see Uncle Jack and the man, now down, now 
 up, and at last, after wrestling here and there, the man, 
 in spite of Uncle Jack's great strength, seeming to have 
 the mastery. There was a loud panting and a crushing 
 fall, both going down, and Uncle Jack rising up to 
 kneel upon his adversary's chest. 
 
 "Like lighting a bull," panted Uncle Jack. "What 
 arms the fellow has ! Got the rope ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Uncle Dick, rattling the things in the 
 bag. " Can you turn him over ? " 
 
 No sooner said than done. The man heard the 
 order, and prepared to resist being turned on one side. 
 Uncle Jack noted this and attacked the other side so 
 quickly that the man was over upon his face before he 
 could change his tactics. 
 
 "Keep that dog back. Cob, or he'll eat him," said 
 Uncle Bob, making the lantern play on the prostrate 
 man, whose arms were dexterously dragged behind 
 him and tightly tied. 
 
 "There," said Uncle Jack, "Now you can get up 
 and go. Ah, would you, coward!" 
 
 This was in answer to a furious kick the fellow 
 tried to deliver as soon as he had regained his feet. 
 
 " If he attempts to kick again loose the dog at him, 
 Cob," cried Uncle Dick sharply. 
 
 Then in an undertone to me: 
 
 "No: don't! But let him think you will." 
 
 "You'll hev it for this," cried the man furiously. 
 
 "Right," said Uncle Jack. "Now, then, have you 
 anything here belonging to you? No! Down you 
 come then." 
 
 He collared his prisoner, who turned to kick at him;
 
 TURNED OUT. 81 
 
 but a savage snarl from Piter, as I half let him go, 
 checked the fellow, and he suffered himself to be 
 marched to the door, where he stopped. 
 
 "Ma beer," he growled, looking back at the stone 
 bottle. 
 
 "Beer! No, you've had enough of that," said Uncle 
 Dick. "Go on down." 
 
 The man walked quietly down the stairs; but when 
 he found that he was to be thrust out into the lane he 
 began to struggle again, and shout, but a fierce hand 
 at his throat stopped that and he was led down to the 
 gate in the wall, where it became my task now to hold 
 the lantern while Uncles Dick and Bob grasped our 
 prisoner's arms and left Uncle Jack free to untie the 
 cord. 
 
 " Be ready to unlock the gate. Cob," whispered Uncle 
 Jack, as he held his prisoner by one twist of the rope 
 round his arms like a leash. "Now, then, ready! Back, 
 dog, back!" 
 
 Piter shrank away, and then at a concerted moment 
 the gate was thrown open, the three brothers loosed 
 their hold of the prisoner at the same moment, and 
 just as he was turning to try and re-enter, a sharp 
 thrust of the foot sent him flying forward, the gate 
 was banged to, and locked, and we were congratulating 
 ourselves upon having ridded ourselves of an ugly 
 customer, when the gate shook from the eft'ect of a 
 tremendous blow that sounded as if it had been dealt 
 with a paving-stone. 
 
 (322) F
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 A USEFUL ALLY. 
 
 I AKE no notice," said Uncle Dick. 
 
 We listened, and I laughed as I heard the 
 rattling noise made by a key as if our 
 friend was trying to get in, after which 
 he seemed to realize what had been done, and went 
 away grumbling fiercely. 
 
 " Now for a quiet look round upstairs," said Uncle 
 Dick; and all being quiet and we in possession we 
 turned in at the dark door to inspect our fort. 
 
 There was something creepy and yet thoroughly 
 attractive in the business. The place looked dark and 
 romantic in the gloom ; there was a spice of danger in 
 the work, and the excitement made my blood seem to 
 dance in my veins. 
 
 "Hallo!" I cried, as we were entering the door; 
 " there's something wrong," for I heard a rustling noise 
 and a dull thud as if someone had jumped down from 
 a little height. 
 
 At the same moment we found out how useful Piter 
 was ffoinjx to be, for he started off with a furious rush, 
 barking tremendously, and as we followed him to the 
 end of the yard we were in time for a scuffle, a savage 
 burst of expressions, and then my heart, which had
 
 IN THE DAM. 83 
 
 been throbbing furiously, seemed to stand still, for 
 there was a howl, a tremendous splash, then silence. 
 
 "Quick, boys!" cried Uncle Jack. "Here, join 
 hands. I'll go in and fetch him out. Take the light, 
 Cob." 
 
 I gladly seized the lantern and made the light play 
 on the surface of the water where it was disturbed, 
 and as I did so Piter came up from the edge whining 
 softly and twitching his little stump of a tail. 
 
 Then a head and shoulders appeared, and the surface 
 of the dam was beaten tremendously, but so close to the 
 edge that by standing on the stonework and holding 
 by Uncle Bob's hand Uncle Jack was able to stretch 
 out his stick to the struggling man, to have it clutched 
 directly, and the fellow was drawn ashore. 
 
 He gave himself a shake like a dog as soon as he 
 was on dry land, and stood for a moment or two growl- 
 ing and using ugly language that seemed to agree with 
 his mouth. 
 
 Then he turned upon us. 
 
 "Aw right!" he said, "I'll pay thee for this. Set 
 the dawg on me, you did, and then pitched me into the 
 watter. Aw reight! I'll pay thee for this." 
 
 " Open the gate. Bob," said Uncle Jack, who now 
 took the fellow by the collar and thrust him forward 
 while I held the light as the man went on threatening 
 and tellino- us what he meant to do. 
 
 But the cold water had pretty well quenched his 
 fierce anger, and though he threatened a great deal he 
 did not attempt to do anything till he was by the gate, 
 where a buzz of voices outside seemed to inspirit 
 him. 
 
 "Hey, lads!" he cried; "in wi' you when gate's 
 opened."
 
 84 A TAP ON THE KNUCKLES. 
 
 " Take care," whispered Uncle Dick. " Be ready to 
 bang the gate. We must have him out. Here, Piter." 
 
 The dog answered with a bark, and then our invader 
 being held ready the gate was opened by me, and the 
 three brothers thrust the prisoner they were going to 
 set at liberty half-way out. 
 
 Only half-way, for he was driven back by a rush of 
 his companions, who had been aroused by his shout- 
 ing. 
 
 The stronger outside party would have pi-evailed 
 no doubt had not our four-footed companion made a 
 savage charge among the rough legs, with such effect 
 that there was a series of yells from the front men, 
 who became at once on our side to the extent of driv- 
 ing their friends back; and before they could recover 
 from the surprise consequent upon the dog's assault, 
 the gate was banged to and locked. 
 
 " Show the light, and see where that fellow came 
 over the wall, Cob," whispered Uncle Dick ; and I made 
 the light play along the top, expecting to see a head 
 every moment. But instead of a head a pair of hands 
 appeared over the coping-stones — a pair of great black 
 hands, whose nails showed thick and stubby in the 
 lantern light. 
 
 "There, take that," said Uncle Dick, giving the 
 hands a quick tap with his stick. " I don't want to 
 hurt you, though I could." 
 
 ]jy that he meant do serious injury, for he certainly 
 hurt tlie owner of the hands to the extent of giving 
 pain, for there was a savage yell and the hands dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 Then there was a loud scuffling noise and a fresh 
 pair of hands appeared, but they shared the fate of 
 the others and went out of sight.
 
 THE ATTACK CONTINUED. 85 
 
 "Nice place this," said Uncle Bob suddenly. "Didn't 
 take return tickets, did you?" 
 
 "Return tickets! no," said Uncle Jack in a low 
 angry voice. " What! are you tired of it already?" 
 
 "Tired! Well, I don't know, but certainly this is 
 more lively than Canonbury. There's something cheer- 
 ful about the place. Put up your umbrellas, it hails." 
 
 I was nervous and excited, but I could not help 
 laughing at this, for Uncle Bob's ideas of hailstones 
 were peculiar. The first that fell was a paving-stone 
 as big as a half-quartern loaf, and it was followed by 
 quite a shower of the round cobbles or pebbles nearly 
 the size of a fist that are used so much in some coun- 
 try places for paths. 
 
 Fortunately no one was hit, while this bombardment 
 was succeeded by another assault or attempt to carry 
 the place by what soldiers call a coup de main. 
 
 But this failed, for the hands that were to deal the 
 coujp received such ugly taps from sticks as they ap- 
 peared on the top of the wall that their owners dropped 
 back and began throwing over stones and angry words 
 again. 
 
 Only one of our assailants seemed to have the cour- 
 age to persevere, and this proved to be our old friend. 
 For as I directed the light along the top of the wall 
 a pair of hands appeared accom^ianied by the usual 
 scufilino-. 
 
 Uncle Dick only tapped them, but possibly not hard 
 enough, for the arms followed the hands, then ap- 
 peared the head and fierce eyes of the man we had 
 found asleep, 
 
 " Coom on, lads; we've got un now," he shouted, and 
 in another minute he w^ould have been over; but Uncle 
 Dick felt it was time for stronger measures than tap-
 
 86 AN ASSAULT. 
 
 ping hands, and he let his stick come down with such 
 a sharp rap on the great coarse head tliat it disappeared 
 directly, and a yelling chorus was succeeded by another 
 shower of stones. 
 
 We went into shelter in the doorway, with Piter 
 playing the part of sentry in front, the dog walking 
 up and down looking at the top of the wall growling 
 as he went, and now and then opening and shutting 
 his teeth with a loud snap like a trap. 
 
 On the other side of the wall we could hear the 
 talking of the men, quite a little crowd having appa- 
 rently assembled, and being harangued by one of their 
 party. 
 
 "So it makes you think of Canonbury, does it. 
 Bob?" said Uncle Jack. 
 
 "Well, yes," said my uncle. 
 
 " It makes me feel angry," said Uncle Jack, " and as 
 if the more these scoundrels are obstinate and interfere 
 with me, the more determined I shall grow." 
 
 "We must call in the help of the police," said Uncle 
 Dick. 
 
 "And they will be watched away," said Uncle Jack. 
 " No, we must depend upon ourselves, and I dare say 
 we can win. What's that?" 
 
 I listened, and said tliat I did not hear anything. 
 
 " I did," said Uncle Jack. " It was the tap made by 
 a ladder that has been reared against a house." 
 
 I made the light play against the top of the wall 
 and along it from end to end. 
 
 Then Uncle Jack took it and examined the top, but 
 nothing was visible, and saying it was fancy he handed 
 the lantern to me, when all at once there was a double 
 thud as of two people leaping down from the wall; 
 and as I turned the light in the direction from which
 
 ■Ji 
 
 -J 
 
 ■^ 
 
 < 
 
 ■■A 
 < 
 
 s 
 
 •—I 
 
 HI!
 
 PITER CHARGES. 87 
 
 the sounds came there was our squinting enemy, and 
 directly behind him a great rough fellow, both armed 
 with sticks and charging down upon us where we stood. 
 
 I heard my uncles draw a long breath as if pre- 
 paring for the fight. Then they let their sticks fall to 
 their sides, and a simultaneous roar of laughter burst 
 forth. 
 
 It did not take a minute, and the various little 
 changes followed each other so quickly that I was 
 confused and puzzled. 
 
 One moment I felt a curious shrinkingf as I saw the 
 faces of two savao^e men rushino- at us to drive us out 
 of the place; the next I was looking at their backs as 
 they ran along the yard. 
 
 For no sooner did Piter see them than he made a 
 dash at their legs, growling like some fierce wild beast, 
 and showing his teeth to such good effect that the men 
 ran from him blindly yelling one to the other; and 
 the next thing I heard was a couple of splashes in the 
 dam. 
 
 "Why, they're trying to swim across," cried Uncle 
 Dick; and we at once ran to the end of the yard to 
 where it was bounded by the stone-bordered dam. 
 
 "Show the light. Cob," cried Uncle Jack; and as I 
 made it play upon the water there was one man swim- 
 ming steadily for the other side, with Piter standing at 
 the edge baying him furiously, but the other man was 
 not visible. 
 
 Then the surface of the water was disturbed and a 
 hand appeared, then another, to begin beating and 
 splashing. 
 
 "Why, the fellow can't swim," cried Uncle Jack; 
 and catching his brother's hand he reached out, holding 
 his stick ready for the man to grasp.
 
 88 SAVING AN ENEMY. 
 
 It was an exciting scene in the darkness, with the 
 ring of light cast by the lantern playing upon the dark 
 surface of the water, which seemed to be black rippled 
 with gold; and there in the midst was the distorted 
 face of the workman, as he yelled for help and seemed 
 in imminent danger of drowning. 
 
 He made two or three snatches at the stick, but 
 missed it, and his struggles took him farther from the 
 edge into the deep water close by, where the wall that 
 supported the great wheel was at right angles to where 
 we stood. 
 
 It was a terribly dangerous and slippery place, but 
 Uncle Jack did not hesitate. Walking along a slippery 
 iedge that was lapped by the water, he managed to 
 reach the drowning man, holding to him his stick; and 
 then as the fellow clutched it tightly he managed to 
 guide him towards the edge, where Uncle Dick knelt 
 down, and at last caught him by the collar and drew 
 him out, dripping and half insensible. 
 
 "Down, dog!" cried Uncle Dick as Piter made a 
 dash at his enemy, who now lay perfectly motion- 
 less. 
 
 Piter growled a remonstrance and drew back slowly, 
 but as he reached the man's feet he made a sudden 
 dart down and gave one of his ankles a pinch with his 
 trap-like jaws. 
 
 The effect was instantaneous. The man jumped up 
 and shook his fist in our faces. 
 
 "Yow'll get it for this here," he roared. "Yow threw 
 me in dam and then set your dawg at me. Yow'll hev 
 it for this. Yow'll see. Yow'll " 
 
 " Look here," said Uncle Bob, mimicking the fellow's 
 broad rough speech, " hadn't yow better go home and 
 take off your wet things?"
 
 REPETITIONS. 89 
 
 "Yow pitched me in dam and set dawg at me," cried 
 the fellow au'ain. 
 
 " Go home and get off your wet things and go to 
 bed," said Uncle Jack, " and don't come worrying us 
 again — do you hear?" 
 
 "Yow pitched me in dam and set dawg at me," cried 
 the man again; and from the other side of the pool 
 the man who had swum across and been joined by 
 some companions yelled out: 
 
 " Gi'e it to un, Ghawny — gi'e it to un." 
 
 "Yow pitched me in dam and set dawg " 
 
 " Look here," roared Uncle Bob, " if you're not out 
 of this place in half a minute I will pitch you in the 
 dam, and set the dog at you as well. Here, Piter." 
 
 " Give's leg over the wall," growled the man. 
 
 "No. Go out of the gate," said Uncle Jack; and 
 standing ready to avoid a rush we opened the gate in 
 the wall and let the fellow go free. 
 
 We got him out and escaped a rush, for the little 
 crowd were all up by the side of the dam, whence they 
 could see into the yard; but as we sent Ghawny, as he 
 was called, out through the gate, and he turned to 
 stand there, dripping, and ready to shake his fist in 
 our faces, they came charging down. 
 
 Uncle Bob banged the door to, though, as our enemy 
 repeated his angry charge: 
 
 "Yow pitched me in dam and set dawg at me." 
 
 Then the door was closed and we prepared for the 
 next attack from the murmuring crowd outside. 
 
 But none came, and the voices gradually grew fainter 
 and died away, while, taking it in turns, we watched 
 till morning began to break without any farther de- 
 monstration on the part of the enemy. 
 
 "We're safe for this time, boys," said Uncle Dick.
 
 90 AT REST. 
 
 "Now go and have a few hours' rest. I'll call you 
 when the men come." 
 
 We were only too glad, and ten minutes later we 
 were all asleep on some shavings and straw in the 
 upper workshop, while Uncle Dick and Piter kept 
 guard.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ON GUARD. 
 
 T seemed as if it had all been a dream when 
 I awoke and found Uncle Bob was shaking 
 me. 
 
 "Come, young fellow," he cried; "break- 
 fast's ready." 
 
 I did not feel ready for my breakfast if it was, 
 especially a breakfast of bread and meat with no chair, 
 no table, no cloth, no tea, coffee, or bread and butter. 
 
 Such a good example was shown me, though, that I 
 took the thick sandwich offered to me, and I was soon 
 forgetting my drowsiness and eating heartily. 
 
 We were not interrupted, and when we had ended 
 our meal, went round the place to see what was to be 
 done. 
 
 The first thing was placing the property that could 
 be claimed by the men close by the gate ready for them, 
 and when this was done Piter and I walked up and 
 down the yard listening to the steps outside, and wait- 
 ing to give a signal if any of the men should come. 
 
 No men came, however, and there was not a single 
 call till afternoon, when a sharp rapping at the gate 
 was answered by two of my uncles, and the dog, who 
 seemed puzzled as to the best pair of legs to peer 
 between, deciding at last in favour of Uncle Bob's.
 
 92 • AN OMINOUS SILENCK 
 
 To our surprise, when the gate was opened, there 
 were no men waiting, but half a dozen women, one of 
 whom announced that they had came for their masters' 
 "traps," and the said "traps" being handed to them, 
 they went off without a word, not even condescending 
 to say " Thank you." 
 
 " Come," said Uncle Bob, after the various things had 
 been carried off, and Piter had stood looking on twitch- 
 insr his ears and blinking^ at them, as if he did not war 
 with women, " Come, we've won the game." 
 
 " Don't be too sure, my boy," said Uncle Dick. 
 
 " But they have given up." 
 
 " Given up expecting to use the works. But what 
 are they going to do in revenge?" 
 
 "Revenge!" 
 
 " Yes. You may depend upon it we are marked men, 
 and that we shall have to fight hard to hold our own." 
 
 As the day went on — a day busily spent in making 
 plans for the future of our factory, we had one or two 
 applications from men who were seeking work, and if 
 we had any doubt before of how our coming was to be 
 received, we realized it in the yells and hootings that 
 greeted the men who came in a friendly spirit. 
 
 Uncle Dick went off directly after breakfast to see 
 about the machinery waiting at the railway being 
 delivered, and it was late in the afternoon before he 
 returned. 
 
 " One of us will have to stay always on the premises 
 for the present," he said, "so I have ordered some 
 furniture and a carpenter to come and board up and 
 make that corner office comfortable. We must make 
 shift." 
 
 The matter was discussed, and finally it was settled 
 that two of our party were to be always on the pre-
 
 MAKING A BEGINNING. 93 
 
 mises, and until we were satisfied that there was no 
 more fear of interference, one was to keep watch half the 
 night with tlie dog, and then be reheved by the other. 
 
 " We shall have to make a man of you, Cob," said 
 Uncle Jack. " You must take your turn with us." 
 
 "I'm ready," I replied; and very proud I felt of being 
 trusted. 
 
 Of course I felt nervous, but at the same time rather 
 disappointed, for everything went on in the most busi- 
 ness like way. Carpenters and fitters were set to work, 
 and, helped by the indomitable perseverance and energy 
 of my uncles, a great deal of fresh machinery was soon 
 in position. New shafts and bands, a new furnace for 
 preparing our own steel after a fashion invented by 
 Uncle Dick. New grindstones and polishing wheels, 
 new forges with tilt hammers, and anvils. 
 
 By degrees I found what was going to be our chief 
 business, and that was the production of cutlery of a 
 peculiar temper especially for surgical instruments and 
 swords. Uncle Dick having an idea that he could 
 produce blades equal to Damascus or the finest Spanish 
 steel. 
 
 The days glided by with the works growing more 
 complete, and each night half our party on guard at 
 Fort Industry, as Uncle Bob christened the place. And 
 though the couple who had slept at the lodgings went 
 down to the place every morning feeling nervous, and 
 wondering whether anything had happened in the 
 night, it was always to find that all was going on per- 
 fectly smoothly, and that there was nothing to mind. 
 
 Piter had a kennel just inside the entry, and as each 
 new hand was eno-ao-ed he was introduced to the doer, 
 who inspected him, and never afterwards so much as 
 growled.
 
 94 AFTER A MONTH. 
 
 Uncle Dick took the lead, and under his orders the 
 change rapidly took place. 
 
 There was one hindrance, though, and that occurred 
 in connection with the furnaces, for the chimney-shaft 
 needed some repair at the top. This, however, proved 
 to be an easy task, scaffolding not being necessary, 
 projecting bars answering the purjDOse of the rounds 
 of a ladder having been built in when the shaft was 
 erected, with this end in view. 
 
 At last everything was, as Uncle Dick called it, com- 
 plete for the present. There was a good supply of water, 
 and one morning the furnace was lit, so were the forges, 
 and step by step we progressed till there was quite a 
 busy scene, the floors and rafters in the forge and fur- 
 nace building glowing and seeming turned to gold; 
 while from out of the chinniey there rose every 
 morning a great volume of smoke that rolled out 
 and bent over, and formed itself into vast feathery 
 plumes. 
 
 I could hardly believe it true when it was announced 
 that we had been down in Arrowfield a month: but so 
 it was. 
 
 But little had been done beyond getting the machinery 
 at tlie works ready for work to come; now, however, 
 some of the projects were to be put in action. 
 
 " For," said Uncle Dick, " if we should go on forging 
 and grinding as other manufacturers do, we only enter 
 into competition with them, and I dare say we should 
 be beaten. We must do something different and better, 
 and that's why we have come. To-morrow I begin to 
 make my new tempered steel." 
 
 Uncl(3 Dick kept his word, and the next morning 
 men were at work arranging fire-bricks for a little 
 furnace which was duly made, and then so much
 
 WEARY or WATCHING. 95 
 
 blistered steel was laid in a peculiar way with so much 
 iron, and a certain heat was got up and increased and 
 lowered several times till Uncle Dick was satisfied. 
 He told me that the colour assumed by the metal was 
 the test by which he judged whether it was progressing 
 satisfactorily, and this knowledge could only come by 
 experience. 
 
 Everything was progressing most favourably. The 
 men who had been engaged worked well ; we had seen 
 no more of those who had had to vacate the works, 
 and all was as it should be. In fact our affairs were 
 so prosperous that to me it seemed great folly for watch 
 to be kept in the works night after night. 
 
 I thought it the greatest nonsense possible one night 
 when I had been very busy all day, and it had come 
 to my turn, and I told Uncle Jack so. 
 
 " Those fellows were a bit cross at having to turn 
 out," I said. " Of course they were, and they made a 
 fuss. You don't suppose they will come again?" 
 
 " I don't know, Cob," said Uncle Jack quietly. 
 
 "But is it likely?" I said pettishly. 
 
 "I can't say, my boy — who can? Strange things 
 have been done down in Arrowfield by foolish work- 
 men before now." 
 
 "Oh, yes!" I said; "but that's in the past. It isn't 
 likely that they will come and annoy us. Besides, 
 there's Piter. He'd soon startle any one away." 
 
 " You think then that there is no occasion for us to 
 watch. Cob?" 
 
 "Yes," I cried eagerly, "that's just what I think. 
 We can go to bed and leave Piter to keep guard. He 
 would soon oive the alarm." 
 
 " Then you had better go to bed, Cob," said Uncle 
 Jack quietly.
 
 96 I RETRACT. 
 
 '' And of course you won't get up when it comes to 
 your turn." 
 
 "No," he said; "certainly not." 
 * That's right," I cried triumphantly. " I am glad 
 we have got over this scare." 
 
 "Are you?" he said dryly. 
 
 "Am I, Uncle Jack! Why, of course I am. All is 
 locked up. I'll go and unchain Piter, and then we'll 
 go and get a good night's rest." 
 
 "Yes," he said; "you may as well unchain Piter." 
 
 I ran and set the dog at liberty, and he started off 
 to make the circuit of the place, while I went back to 
 Uncle Jack, who was lighting the bull's-eye lantern 
 that we always used when on guard. 
 
 " Why, uncle," I said wonderingly; " we sha'n't want 
 that to-night." 
 
 " I shall," he said. " Good night ! " 
 
 " No, no," I cried. " We arranged to go to bed." 
 
 " You arranged to go to bed. Cob, but I did not. 
 You don't suppose I could behave so unfairly to my 
 brothers as to neglect the task they placed in my 
 hands." 
 
 He did not say any more. It was quite sufficient. 
 I felt the rebuff, and was thoroughly awake now and 
 ashamed of what I had proposed. 
 
 Without a word I took the lantern and held out my 
 hand. 
 
 "Good night, Uncle Jack!" I said. 
 
 He had seemed cold and stern just before. Now he 
 was his quiet old self again, and he took my hand, 
 nodded, and said: 
 
 " Two o'clock, Cob. Goodnight!" 
 
 I saw him go along the great workshop, enter the office 
 and close the door, and then I started on my rounds.
 
 PLAYING POLICEMAN. 97 
 
 It was anything but a cheerful task, that keeping 
 watch over the works during the ni^'ht, and I liked the 
 first watch from ten to two less than the second watch 
 from two to six, for in the latter you had the day break- 
 ing about four o'clock, and then it was light until 
 six. 
 
 For, however much one mis^ht tell oneself that there 
 was no danger — no likelihood of anything happening, 
 the darkness in places, the faint glow from partly ex- 
 tinct fires, and the curious shadows cast on the white- 
 washed walls were all disposed to be startling; and, 
 well as I knew the place, I often found myself shrink- 
 ing as I came suddenly upon some piece of machinery 
 that assumed in the darkness the aspect of some hor- 
 rible monster about to seize me as I went my rounds. 
 
 Upon the other hand, there was a pleasant feeling of 
 importance in going about that great dark place of a 
 night, with a lantern at my belt, a stout stick in my 
 hand, and a bull-dog at my heels, and this sensation 
 helped to make the work more bearable. 
 
 On this particular night I had paced silently all 
 about the place several times, thinking a good deal 
 about my little encounter with Uncle Jack, and about 
 the last letters I had had from my father. Then, as 
 all seemed perfectly right, I had seated mj-self by the 
 big furnace, which emitted a dull red glow, not suffi- 
 cient to light the place, but enough to make it pleasantly 
 warm, and to show that if a blast were directed in the 
 coals, a fierce fire would soon be kindled. 
 
 I did not feel at all sleepy now; in fact, in spite of 
 the warmth this furnace-house would not have been a 
 pleasant place to sleep in, for the windows on either 
 side were open, having no glass, only iron bars, and 
 those on one side looked over the dam, while the others 
 
 (322) G
 
 98 I GROW DROWSY. 
 
 were in the wall that abutted on the lane leading down 
 to the little river. 
 
 Piter had been with me all through my walk round, 
 but, seeing me settle down, he had leaped on to the hot 
 ashes and proceeded to curl hiinselt" up in a nice warm 
 place, where the probabilities were that he would soon 
 begin to cook. 
 
 Piter had been corrected for this half a dozen times 
 over, but he had to be bullied again, and leaping off the 
 hot ashes he had lowered his tail and trotted back to 
 his keimel, where he curled himself up. 
 
 All was very still as I sat there, except that the 
 boom and throb of the busy town where the furnaces 
 and steam-engines were at work kept going and com- 
 ing in waves of sound; and as I sat, I found myself 
 thinking about the beauty of the steel that my uncles 
 had set themselves to produce; and how, when a piece 
 was snapped across, breaking like a bit of glass, the 
 fracture looked all of a silvery bluish-gray. 
 
 Then I began thinking about our tall chimney, and 
 what an unpleasant place mine would be to sit in if 
 there were a furious storm, and the shaft were blown 
 down; and then, with all the intention to be watchful, 
 I began to grow drowsy, and jumping up, walked up 
 and down the furnace-house and round the smoulder- 
 ing fire, whose chimney was a great inverted funnel 
 depending from the open roof. 
 
 I grew tired of walking about and sat down again, 
 to begin thinking once more. 
 
 How far is it from thinking to sleeping and dream- 
 ing? Who can answer that question? 
 
 To me it seemed that I was sitting thinking, and 
 that as I thought there in the darkness, where I could 
 see the fire throwing up its feeble glow on to the dim-
 
 PITER WAGS HIS TAIL. 99 
 
 looking open windows on either side, some great animal 
 came softly in through the window on my left, and 
 then disappeared for a few moments, to appear again 
 on my right where the wall overlooked the lane. 
 
 That window seemed to be darkened for a minute 
 or two, and then became light again, while once more 
 that on my left grew dark, and I saw the figure glide out. 
 
 I seemed, as I say, to have been thinking, and as I 
 thought it all appeared to be a dream, for it would have 
 been impossible for any one to have crept in at one 
 window, passing the furnace and back again without 
 disturbing me. 
 
 Yes ; I told myself it was all fancy, and as I thought 
 I told myself that I started awake, and looked sharply 
 at first one window, and then at the other, half expect- 
 ing to see someone there. 
 
 "I was asleep and dreaming," I said to myself; and, 
 starting up impatiently, I walked right out of the 
 furnace-house across the strip of yard, and in at the 
 door, making Piter give his stumpy tail a sharp rap- 
 ping noise upon the floor of his kennel. 
 
 I went on all through the grinding workshop, and 
 listened at the end of the place to the water trickling 
 and dripping down in the great water-floored cellar. 
 
 That place had an attraction for me, and I stood 
 listening for some minutes before walking back, 
 thoroughly awake now. 
 
 I was so used to the place that I had no need to open 
 the lantern, but threaded my way here and there 
 without touching a thing, and I was able to pass right 
 through to the upper floor in the same way. 
 
 Everything was correct, and Uncle Jack sleeping 
 soundly, as I hoped to be after another hour or so's 
 watchmu".
 
 100 A BAD WATCHMAN. 
 
 I would not disturb him, but stole out again, and 
 along the workshop to the head of the stairs, where I 
 descended and stooped to pat Piter again before look- 
 ing about the yard, and then walking slowly into the 
 warm furnace-house. 
 
 Then, after a glance at the windows where I had 
 fancied I had seen someone creep in, I sat down in my 
 old place enjoying the warmth, and once more the 
 drowsy sensation crept over me. 
 
 How long it was before I dropped asleep I can't tell, 
 but, bad watchman that I was, I did drop asleep, and 
 began dreaming about the great dam miles away up 
 the valley; and there it seemed to me I was fishing 
 with a long line for some of the great pike that lurked 
 far down in the depths. 
 
 As I fished my line seemed to pass over a window- 
 sill and scraped against it, and made a noise which set 
 me wonderinsf how larcre the fish must be that was 
 running away with it. 
 
 And then I was awake, with the perspiration upon 
 my forehead and my hands damp, listening. 
 
 It was no fishing-line. I was not by the great dam 
 up the river, but there in our own furnace-house, and 
 something was making a strange rustling noise. 
 
 For some few moments I could not tell where the 
 noise was. There was the rustling, and it seemed 
 straight before me. Then I knew it was there, for 
 immediately in front on the open fire something was 
 moving and causing a series of little flickers and 
 sparkles in the glowing ashes. 
 
 What could it be? What did it mean? 
 
 I was so startled that I was ready to leap up and 
 run out of the place, and it was some time before I 
 could summon up courage enough to stretch out a hand.
 
 FRESH DANGER. 101 
 
 and try to touch whatever it was that moved the 
 glowing ashes. 
 
 Wire! 
 
 Yes; there was no doubt of it — wire. A long thin 
 wire stretched pretty tightly reached right across me, 
 and evidently passed from the window overlooking the 
 lane across the furnace and out of the window by the 
 side of the dam. 
 
 What did it mean — what was going to happen? 
 
 I asked myself these questions as I bent towards 
 the furnace, touching the wire which glided on through 
 my hand towards the window by the dam. 
 
 It was all a matter of moments, and I could feel 
 that someone must be drawing the wire out there by 
 the dam, though how I could not tell, for it seemed to 
 me that there was nothing but deep water there. 
 
 "Some one must have floated down the dam in a 
 I )oat," I thought in a flash ; but no explanation came to 
 the next part of my question, what was it for? 
 
 As I bent forward there wondering what it could 
 mean, I began to understand that there must be some 
 one out in the lane at the other end of the wire, and 
 in proof of this surmise I heard a low scraping noise 
 at the window on my right, and then a hiss as if some- 
 one had drawn his breath in between his lips. 
 
 What could it mean? 
 
 I was one moment for shouting, "Who's there?" 
 the next for turning on my bull's-eye; and again the 
 next for running and rousing up Uncle Jack. 
 
 Then I thought that I would shout and call to Piter; 
 but I felt that if I did either of these things I should 
 lose the clue that was gliding through my hands. 
 
 What could it mean? 
 
 The wire, invisible to me, kept softly stirring the
 
 102 THAT SOFT CORD. 
 
 glowincf ashes, and seemed to be visible there. Else- 
 where it was lost in the black darkness about me, but 
 I felt it plainly enough, and in my intense excitement, 
 hundreds of yards seemed to have passed through my 
 hand before I felt a check and in a flash knew what 
 was intended. 
 
 For, all at once, as the wire glided on, something 
 struck against my hand gently, and raising the other 
 it came in contact with a large canister wrapped round 
 and round with stout soft cord. 
 
 What for? 
 
 I knew in an instant; I had read of such outrages, 
 and it was to guard against them that we watched, 
 and kept that dog. 
 
 I had hold of a large canister of gunpowder, and the 
 soft cord wrapped around it was prepared fuse. 
 
 I comprehended too the horrible ingenuity of the 
 scheme, which was to draw, by means of the wire, the 
 canister of gunpowder on to the furnace, so that the 
 fuse might catch fire, and that would give the mis- 
 creants who were engaged time to escape before the 
 powder was fired and brought the chimney-shaft top- 
 pling down. 
 
 For a moment I trembled and felt ready to drop the 
 canister, and run for my life. 
 
 Then I felt strong, for I knew that if I kept the 
 canister in my hands the fuse could not touch the 
 smouldering ashes and the plan would fail. 
 
 But how to do this without being heard by the men 
 who must be on either side of the furnace-house. 
 
 It was easy enough; I had but to hold the canister 
 high up above the fire, and pass it over till it was be- 
 yond the burning ashes and then let it continue its 
 course to the other window.
 
 SOUNDING THE ALARM. 103 
 
 It was a great risk, not of explosion, but of being 
 heard; but ■with a curious feeling of reckless excite- 
 ment upon me I held up the canister, stepping softly 
 over the ash floor, and guidinof the terrible machine on 
 till the danger was passed. 
 
 Then stealing after it I climbed gently on to the 
 broad bench beneath the clean window, and with my 
 head just beneath it touched the wire, and waited till 
 the canister touched my hand again. 
 
 I had made no plans, but, urged on by the spirit of 
 the moment, I seized the canister with both hands, 
 gave it a tremendous jerk, and with my face at the 
 window roared out: 
 
 "Now, fire! fire! shoot 'em down!" 
 
 I stood on the work-bench then, astounded at the 
 effect of my cry. 
 
 Behind me there was a jerk at the wire, which snap- 
 ped, and I heard the rush of feet in the lane, while 
 before me out from the window there came a yell, a 
 tremendous splash, and then the sound of water being- 
 beaten, and cries for help. 
 
 At the same moment Piter came rushing^ into the 
 furnace house, barking furiously, and directly after 
 there was the noise of feet on the stairs, and Uncle 
 Jack came in. 
 
 "What is it. Cob? Where's your light?" he cried. 
 
 I had forgotten the lantern, but I turned it on now 
 as I tucked the canister beneath my arm. 
 
 "There's a man or two men drownino- out here in the 
 dam," I panted hoarsely; and Uncle Jack leaped on to 
 the bench by my side. 
 
 "Give me the lantern," he cried; and, taking it from 
 my wet hands, he turned it on, held it to the open 
 window, and made it play upon the surface of the dam.
 
 104 FUSE AND CANISTER. 
 
 "There are two men there, swimming to the side," 
 he cried. "Stop, you scoundrels!" he roared; but the 
 beatino- noise in the water increased. One seemed to 
 get his footing and held out his hand to his companion 
 in distress. The next minute I saw that they had gained 
 the stone wall at the side, over which they clambered, 
 and from there we heard them drop down on to the 
 gravel stones. 
 
 "They're gone. Cob," said my uncle. 
 
 "Shall we run after them?" I said. 
 
 "It would be madness," he replied. "Down, Piter! 
 quiet, good dog!" 
 
 "Now what's the meaning of it all?" he said after 
 turning the light round the place. "What did you 
 hear? Were they getting in?" 
 
 "No," I said; "they were trying to draw this canister 
 on to the fire with the wire; but I heard them and 
 got hold of it." 
 
 Uncle Jack turned the light of the bull's-eye on to 
 the canister I held, and then turned it off again, as if 
 there were danger of its doing some harm with the 
 light alone, even after it had passed through glass. 
 
 "Why, Cob," he said huskily, "did you get hold of 
 that?" 
 
 "Yes, I stopped it," I said, trembling now that the 
 excitement had passed. 
 
 "But was the fuse alicrht?" 
 
 "No," I said; "they were going to draw it over the 
 fire there, only I found it out in time." 
 
 "Why, Cob," he whispered, "there's a dozen pounds 
 of powder here wrapped round with all this fuse. Come 
 with me to put it in a place of safety: wliy, it would 
 have half -wrecked our works." 
 
 nVould it?" I said.
 
 BLIND SAVAGES. 105 
 
 "Would it, boy! It would have been destruction, 
 perhaps death. Cob," he whispered huskily, "ought we 
 to go on watching?" 
 
 "Oh, Uncle Jack," I said, "I suppose I am foolish 
 because I am so young!" 
 
 "Cob, my boy," he said softly; "if you had been ten 
 times as old you could not have done better than you 
 have done to-niglit. Here, let's place this dreadful 
 canister in the water chamber: it will be safer there." 
 
 "But the men; will they come again?" 
 
 "Not to-night, my lad. I think we are safe for a few 
 hours to come. But what of the future, if these blind 
 savages will do such things as this?"
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 DROWNING AN ENEMY. 
 
 DID not sleep that morning, but kept watch 
 with Uncle Jack, and as soon as the men came 
 to work I hurried off to Mrs. Stephenson's 
 to tell the others o£ the night's adventures. 
 
 Half an hour later they were with me at the works, 
 where a quiet examination was made, everything being 
 done so as not to take the attention of the work-people, 
 who were now busy. 
 
 We had first of all a good look round outside, and 
 found that beneath the window of the furnace-house 
 there were some half dozen great nails or spikes care- 
 fully driven into the wall, between the stones, so as to 
 make quite a flight of steps for an active man, and 
 across the window lay a tangled -together length of 
 thin wire. 
 
 We did not stop to draw out the nails for fear of 
 excitino; attention, but strolled back at once into the 
 works. 
 
 And now once for all, when I say we, please to under- 
 stand that it is not out of conceit, for my share in our 
 adventures was always very small, but to avoid uncling 
 you all too much, and making so many repetitions of 
 the names of Uncle Dick, Uncle Jack, and Uncle Bob. 
 
 I saw several of the men look up from their work 
 as we went through the grinding shop, but they went
 
 WHAT THE MESSENGER SAID. 107 
 
 on again with their task, making the blades they 
 ground shriek as they pressed them against the swiftly 
 revolving stones. 
 
 " They must know all about it, Uncle Bob," I whis- 
 pered, and he gave me a meaning look. 
 
 "Yes," he said softly; "that's the worst of it, my lad. 
 Master and man ought to shake hands and determine 
 to fight one for the other; but, as you see, they take 
 opposite sides, and it is war." 
 
 We went next into the wheel-pit and had a look 
 round, after which Uncle Jack spoke aloud to the man 
 who acted as general engineer, and said he thought 
 that the great axle wanted seeing to and fresh clean- 
 ing. 
 
 The man nodded, and said gruffly that he would see 
 to it, and then, as he turned away, I saw him wink at 
 one of the men grinding at a stone and thrust his 
 tongue into his cheek. 
 
 Just then he caught my eye, his countenance changed, 
 and he looked as foolish as a boy found out in some 
 peccadillo, but the next instant he scowled at me, and 
 his fierce dark eyes said as plainly as if they spoke: 
 
 " Say a word about that and I'll half kill you." 
 
 I read the threat aright, as will be seen; and, turning 
 to follow my uncles, 1 saw that the man was coming 
 on close behind me, with a look in his countenance 
 wonderfully like that with which he was being fol- 
 lowed by Piter, who, unobserved, was close at his heels, 
 sniffing quietly at his legs and looking as if he would 
 like to fix his teeth in one or the other. 
 
 Seeing this I stopped back, half expecting that Piter, 
 if left behind, might be kicked by the man's heavy 
 clogs. The others did not notice my absence, but went 
 on out of the grinding shop, and the engineer came 
 close up to me, stooping down as I waited, and putting 
 his face close to mine. 
 
 " Look here, raester," he began in a low threatening
 
 108 LATENT EVENTS. 
 
 tone, "do you know what's meant by keeping thy 
 tongue atween thy teeth?" 
 
 "Yes," I cried; and in the same breath, "Mind the 
 dog! Down, Piter! Down!" 
 
 The man made a convulsive leap as he caught sight 
 of the dog, and his intention was to alight upon the 
 frame-work of one of the large grindstones close by 
 his side — one that had just been set in motion, but 
 though he jumped high enough he did now allow for 
 the lowness of the ceiling, against which he struck his 
 head, came down in a sitting position on the grind- 
 stone, and was instantly hurled off to the floor. 
 
 This was Piter's opportunity, and with a low growl 
 and a bound he was upon the man's chest. Another 
 moment and he would have had him by the throat, 
 but I caught him by the collar and dragged him off, 
 amidst the murmur of some, and the laughter of others 
 of the men. 
 
 I did not want to look as if I was afraid, but this 
 seemed to be a good excuse for leaving the grinding 
 shop, and, holding on by Piter's collar, I led him out. 
 
 Just before I reached the door, though, I heard one 
 of the men say to his neighbour — heard it plainly over 
 the whirr and churring of the stones: 
 
 " I've know'd dawgs poisoned for less than that." 
 
 " What shall I do?" I asked myself as soon as I was 
 outside; but the answer did not come. I could only 
 think that my uncles had trouble enough on their 
 hands, and that though it was very evident that the 
 men at work for them were not very well affected, it 
 was not likely that we had any one who would wil- 
 fully do us an injury. 
 
 After all, too, nobody had threatened to poison the 
 dog; it was only a remark about what had been known 
 to happen. 
 
 All this had taken but a very short time, and by 
 the time I had joined my uncles they were just entering
 
 THE RAFT. 109 
 
 the office on the upper floor that looked over the 
 dam. 
 
 There were several men at work here at lathes and 
 benches, and their tools made so much noise that they 
 did not notice my entrance, closely followed by the 
 dog; and so it was that I found out that they, too, 
 must have known all about the cowardly attempt of 
 the night, for one said to another: 
 
 "Didn't expect to be at work here this morning; 
 did you, mate:'" 
 
 " No," growled the man addressed ; " but why can't 
 they leave un aloan. They pay reg'lar, and they're 
 civil." 
 
 " What do you mean?" said the first speaker .sharply. 
 " You going to side wi' un ! What do we want wi' a 
 set o' inventing corckneys here!" 
 
 Just then he cauo-ht sioht of me, and swung round 
 and continued his work, while I walked straight to 
 the office door and went in, where Uncle Jack was 
 just opening a window that looked out upon the dam. 
 
 "Yes," he said, "here we are." 
 
 He pointed to a sort of raft formed of a couple of 
 planks placed about five feet apart and across which a 
 dozen short pieces of wood had been nailed, forming a 
 buoyant platform, on which no doubt our enemies had 
 floated themselves down from the head of the dam, 
 where there was a timber yard. 
 
 "All plain enough now," said Uncle Jack, grinding 
 his teeth. "Oh, if I could have had hold of those two 
 fellows by the collar when they fell in ! " 
 
 "Well," said Uncle Bob, "what would you have 
 done — drowned them ? " 
 
 " Not quite," said Uncle Jack ; " but they would have 
 swallowed a great deal more water than would have 
 been good for them." 
 
 "Never mind about impossible threats," said Uncle 
 Dick. " Let's examine the powder canister now."
 
 110 DANGEROUS IMPLEMENTS. 
 
 This was taken from its resting-place during the 
 time the men were at breakfast and carried into the 
 office, where the dangerous weapon of our enemies was 
 laid upon the desk and examined. 
 
 It was a strong tin canister about ten inches high 
 and six across, and bound round and round, first with 
 strong string and afterwards loosely with some soft 
 black-looking cord, which Uncle Dick said was fuse; 
 and he pointed out where one end was passed through 
 a little hole punched through the bottom of the canister, 
 while the loosely-twisted fuse was held on by thin 
 ■wire, which allowed the soft connection with the 
 powder to hang out in loops. 
 
 "Yes," said Uncle Dick; "if that is good fuse, the 
 very fact of any part touching a spark or smouldering 
 patch of ash would be enough to set it alight, and 
 there is enough, I should say, to burn for a quarter of 
 an hour before it reaches the powder. Yes, a good 
 ten pounds of it," he added, balancing the canister in 
 his hands. 
 
 " But it may be a scare," said Uncle Bob : " done to 
 frighten us. We don't know yet that it is powder." 
 
 " Oh, we'll soon prove that," cried Uncle Jack, 
 taking out his knife. 
 
 "Uncle! Take care!" I cried in agony, for I seemed 
 to see sparks tlying from his knife, and the powder 
 exploding and blowing us to atoms. 
 
 " If you are afraid, Cob, you had better go back 
 home," he said rather gruffly, as he cut the fuse 
 through and tore it off, to lie in a little heap as soon 
 as he had freed it from the wire. 
 
 Then tlie string followed, and the canister stood up- 
 right before us on the desk. 
 
 " Looks as harmless as if it were full of arrow-root 
 or mustard," said Uncle Bob coolly. "Perhaps, after all, 
 it is a scare." 
 
 I stood there with my teeth closed tightly, deter-
 
 THE WAY OUT. Ill 
 
 mined not to show fear, even if the horrible stuff did 
 blow up. For though there was no light in the room, 
 and the matches were in a cupboard, I could not get 
 out of my head the idea that the stuff rtiigJd explode, 
 and it seemed terrible to me for such a dangerous 
 machine to be handled in what appeared to be so reck- 
 less a way. 
 
 " Lid hts pretty tight," said Uncle Jack, trying to 
 screw it off. 
 
 " Don't do that, old fellow," said Uncle Dick. " It 
 would be grinding some of the dust round, and the 
 friction might tire it." 
 
 " Well, yes, it might," replied Uncle Jack. " Not 
 likely though, and I want to examine the powder." 
 
 " That's easily done, my boy. Pull that bit of fuse 
 out of the hole, and let some of the powder trickle 
 out." 
 
 " Bravo ! man of genius," said Uncle Jack ; and he 
 drew out the plug of fuse that went through the 
 bottom of the canister. 
 
 As he did this over a sheet of paper a quantity of 
 black grains like very coarse dry sand began to trickle 
 out and run on to the paper, forming quite a heap, and 
 as the powder ran Uncle Jack looked round at his 
 brother and smiled sadly. 
 
 "Not done to frighten us, eh. Bob!" he said. "If 
 that stuff had been fired the furnace-house and chim- 
 ney would have been levelled." 
 
 " Why, Cob," said Uncle Dick, laying his hand affec- 
 tionately upon my shoulder. " You must be a brave 
 fellow to have hauled that away from the furnace." 
 
 " I did not feel very brave just now," I said bitterly. 
 " When Uncle Jack began to handle that tin I felt as 
 if I must run away." 
 
 " But you didn't," said Uncle Bob, smiling at me. 
 
 " Is that gunpowder?" I said hastily, so as to change 
 the conversation.
 
 112 BLASTING POWDER, 
 
 " No doubt of it, my lad," said Uncle Jack, scooping 
 it up in his hand, so that it might trickle through his 
 fingers. " Strong blasting powder. Shall I fire some 
 and try?" 
 
 " If you like," I said sulkily, for it was, I knew, said 
 to tease me. 
 
 "Well, what's to be done, boys?" said Uncle Jack. 
 " Are we going to lay this before the police ? It is a 
 desperate business!" 
 
 " Desperate enough, but w^e shall do no good, and 
 only give ourselves a great deal of trouble if we go to 
 the law. The police might trace out one of the ofi"en- 
 ders; but if they did, what then? It would not stop 
 the attempts to harm us. No: I'm of opinion that our 
 safety lies in our own watchfulness. A more terrible 
 attempt than this could not be made." 
 
 "What shall we do with the powder, then?" asked 
 Uncle Bob; " save it to hoist some of the scoundrels 
 with their own petard?" 
 
 " Oh, of course if you like," said Uncle Jack. " Fancy 
 Bob trying to blow anybody up with gunpowder!" 
 
 " When he can't even do it with his breath made 
 into words." 
 
 "Ah! joke away," said Uncle Bob; "but I want to 
 see you get rid of that horrible stuff." 
 
 " We don't want to save it then?" said Uncle Jack. 
 
 "No, no; get rid of it." 
 
 " That's soon done then," said Uncle Jack, tying a 
 piece of the cord round the canister; and, going to the 
 open window, he lowered it down over the deep water 
 in the dam, where it sank like a stone, and drew the 
 cord after it out of sight. 
 
 " There," he cried, " that will soon be so soaked with 
 water that it will be spoiled." 
 
 " Who's that," I said, " on the other side of the dam? 
 He's watchinfr us." 
 
 " Squintum the grinder. What's his name — Griggs.
 
 AN EXPERIMENT, 113 
 
 Yes, I shouldn't be a bit surprised if that scoundrel 
 had a hand — " 
 
 " Both hands," put in Uncle Bob. 
 
 " Well, both hands in this ugly business." 
 
 "But couldn't you prove it against him?" I said. 
 
 " No, my lad," said Uncle Jack ; " and I don't know 
 that we want to. Wretched misguided lumps of igno- 
 rance. I don't want to help to transport the villains." 
 
 We had drawn back from the window to where there 
 was still a little heap of powder on the desk as well as 
 the fuse. 
 
 "Come, Bob," said Uncle Jack; "you may not be 
 quite convinced yet, so I'll show you an experiment." 
 
 He took about a teaspoonful of the pow^ler, and 
 placed it in a sliort piece of iron pipe which he laid on 
 the window-sill, and then taking the rest of the explo- 
 sive, he gave it a jerk and scattered it over the water. 
 
 Then taking about a yard of the black soft cord 
 that he said was fuse, he tucked one end in the pipe 
 so that it should rest upon the powder, laid the rest 
 along the window-sill, and asked me to get the 
 matches. 
 
 " Now," he said, " if that's what I think — cleverly 
 made fuse, and good strong powder — we shall soon see 
 on a small scale what it would have done on a larofe. 
 Strike a match. Cob." 
 
 I did as I was told, feeling as if I was ffoingf to let 
 on a very interesting hrework, and as soon as the 
 splint was well alight I was about to hold the little 
 ilame to the end of the fuse, but Uncle Jack stopped me. 
 
 " No," he said, " I want to see if a spark would have 
 lit it. I mean I want to see if just drawing the canister 
 over the remains of the furnace-fire would have started 
 the fuse. That's it, now just touch the end quickly 
 with the match." 
 
 There was only a little spark on the wood, and no 
 flame, as I touched the side of the fuse. 
 
 (322) H
 
 114 THE PROOF. 
 
 The cftect was instantaneous. The soft black-look- 
 ing cord burst into scintillations, tiny sparks flew off 
 on all sides, and a dull fire began to burn slowly along 
 the fuse. 
 
 " Capitally made," said Uncle Jack. " That would 
 have given the scoundrels plenty of warning that the 
 work was well done, and they would have been able 
 to get to a distance before the explosion took place." 
 
 " And now we shall see whether the pow^der is good," 
 said Uncle Dick. 
 
 " But how slowly it burns!" said Uncle Bob. 
 
 " But how surely," I had it on my lips to say. 
 
 I did not speak though, for I was intently watching 
 the progress of the sparks as they ran along the fuse 
 slowly and steadily; and as I gazed I seemed to see 
 what would have gone on in the great dark building 
 if I had not been awakened by the scraping sound of 
 the canister being hauled over bench and floor. 
 
 I shuddered as I watched intently, for the fuse 
 seemed as if it would never burn through, and even 
 when, after what in my excitement seemed a long space 
 of time, it did reach the iron pii)e, though a few sparks 
 came from inside, the powder did not explode. 
 
 "Uncle Bob's riiilit!" I cried with an intense feeling 
 of relief ; " that was not powder, and they only tried 
 to frighten us." 
 
 Fujf! 
 
 There was a sharp flash from each end of the iron 
 tube, and one little ball of white smoke came into the 
 office, while another darted out into the sunny morning- 
 air. 
 
 " Wrong, Cob," said Uncle Jack. " Splendidly-made 
 fuse and tremendously-strong powder. We have had a 
 very narrow escape. Now, lads, what's to be done?" 
 
 " What do you say. Jack?" said Uncle Dick. 
 
 " Do our duty — be always on the watch — fight it 
 out."
 
 FLUID STEEL. 115 
 
 " That's settled," said Uncle Dick. " Now let's get 
 to work again. Cob, you can come and see us cast 
 some steel ingots it' you like." 
 
 "Cast!" I said. 
 
 " Yes, cast. You know what that is ? " 
 
 " Yes, of course." 
 
 ■'But you never saw it liquid so that it could be 
 poured out like water." 
 
 " No," I said, as I followed him, wondering whether 
 I had not better tell him that I had overheard a strange 
 remark about poisoning a dog, and ask if he thought 
 there was any risk about Piter, who seemed to grow 
 much uglier every day, and yet I liked him better. 
 
 The end of it was that I saw the steel lifted out of 
 tlie furnace in crucibles and poured forth like golden- 
 silver water into charcoal moulds, but I did not speak 
 about the dog. 

 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 "'nigh'I. mate." 
 
 S it happened, Mr. Tomplin came in that 
 ev^enino- and when he asked how matters 
 were progressing at the works, Uncle Dick 
 looked round and seemed to be asking his 
 brothers whether he should speak. 
 
 "Ah! I see," said Mr. Tomplin; "they have been up 
 to some tricks with you." 
 
 " Tricks is a mild term," said Uncle Jack bitterly. 
 
 " They have not tried to blow you up ? " 
 
 "Indeed but they did!" said Uncle Jack fiercely; 
 " and if it had not been for the coolness and bravery 
 of my nephew there the place would have been de- 
 stroyed." 
 
 " Tut! tut! tut!" ejaculated Mr. Tomplin; and putting 
 on his spectacles he stared at me in the most provoking 
 way, making me feel as if I should like to knock his 
 glasses off. 
 
 " Is it customary for your people here to fire canisters 
 of gunpowder in the workshops of those who are new- 
 comers ? " 
 
 " Sometimes," said Mr. Tomplin coolly. 
 
 " But such things would destroy life." 
 
 " Well, not alway.'- life, my dear sir," said Mr. 
 Tomplin, " but very often great bodily injury is done." 
 
 "Very often?"
 
 MR. tompltn's opinions. 117 
 
 " "Well, no, not very often now, but we have had a 
 great many trade outrages in our time." 
 
 " But what have we done beyond taking possession 
 of a building for which we have paid a large sum of 
 money ? " 
 
 "It is not what you have done, my dear sirs; it is 
 what you are about to do. The workpeople have got 
 it into their heads that you are going to invent some 
 kind of machinery that will throw them out of work." 
 
 " Nothing of the kind, my dear sir. We are trying 
 to perfect an invention that will bring a vast deal of 
 trade to Arrowtield." 
 
 " But you will not be able to make them believe that 
 till the business comes." 
 
 "And before then, I suppose, we are to be killed?" 
 
 Mr. Tomplin looked very serious, and stared hard at 
 me, as if it was all my fault. 
 
 " My dear sirs," he said at last, " I hardly know how 
 to advise you. It is a most unthankful task to try and 
 invent anything, especially down here. People are so 
 blindly obstinate and wilful that they will not listen to 
 reason. Why not go steadily on with manufacturing 
 in the regular way? What do you say, my young- 
 friend?" he added, turning to me. 
 
 " Wliy not ask the world to stand still, sir?" I ex- 
 claimed impetuously. "I say it's a shame!" 
 
 He looked very hard at me, and then pursed up his 
 lips, while I felt that I had been speaking very rudely 
 to him, and could only apologize to myself by thinking 
 that irritation was allowable, for only last night we 
 liad been nearly blown up. 
 
 " Would you put the matter in the hands of the 
 police?" said Uncle Dick. 
 
 " Well, you might," said Mr. Tomplin. 
 
 " But you would not," said Uncle Bob. 
 
 " No, I don't think I should, if it were my case. I 
 should commence an action for damages if I could find
 
 118 A QUESTION OF ARMS. 
 
 an enemy who had any money, but it is of no use fight- 
 ing men of straw." 
 
 Mr. Tomplin soon after went away, and I looked at 
 my uncles, wondering what they would say. But as 
 they did not speak 1 broke out with: 
 
 " Why, he seemed to think nothing of it." 
 
 " Custom of the country," said Uncle Bob, laughing. 
 " Come, Dick, it's our turn now." 
 
 " Right!" said Uncle Dick; but Uncle Jack laid hold 
 of his shoulder. 
 
 " Look here," he said. " I don't like the idea of you 
 two going down there." 
 
 " No worse for us than for you," said Uncle Bob. 
 
 " Perhaps not, but the risk seems too great." 
 
 " Never mind," said Uncle Dick. " I'm not going to 
 be bcateiL It's war to the knife, and I'm not going to 
 give up." 
 
 " They are not likely to try anything to-night," said 
 Uncle Bob. " There, you two can walk down with us 
 and look round to see if everything is all right and 
 then come back." 
 
 "Don't you think you ought to have pistols?" said 
 Uncle Jack. 
 
 " No," replied Uncle Dick firmly. " We have our 
 sticks, and the dog, and we'll do our best with them. 
 If a pistol is used it may mean the destruction of a 
 life, and I would rather give up our adventure than 
 have blood upon our hands." 
 
 " Yes, you are right," said Uncle Jack. " If bodily 
 injury or destruction is done let them liave the dis- 
 grace on their side." 
 
 We started ofi" directly, and I could not help noticing 
 how people kept staring at my uncles. 
 
 It was not the respectably-dressed people so much 
 as the rough workmen, who were hanging about with 
 their pipes, or standing outside the public-house doors. 
 These scowled and talked to one another in a way
 
 UNCLE JACK IS UNEASY. 119 
 
 that I did not like, and more than once I drew Uncle 
 Dick's attention to it, but he only smiled. 
 
 " We're strangers," he said. " They'll get used to us 
 by and by." 
 
 There was not a soul near the works as we walked 
 up to the gate and were saluted with a furious tit of 
 barking from Piter, who did not know our steps till 
 the key was rattled in the gate. Then he stopped at 
 once and gave himself a shake and whined. 
 
 It was growing dusk as we walked round the yard, 
 to find everything quite as it should be. A look up- 
 stairs and down showed nothing suspicious; and after 
 a few words regarding keeping a sharj) look-out and 
 the like we left the watchers of the night and walked 
 back. 
 
 " Cob," said Uncle Jack as we sat over our supper, 
 " I don't like those two poor fellows being left there 
 by themselves." 
 
 " Neither do I, uncle," I said. " Why not give up 
 watching the place and let it take its chance?" 
 
 " Because we had such an example of the safety of 
 the place and the needlessness of the task?" 
 
 " Don't be hard on me, uncle," I said quickly. " I 
 meant that it would be better to suffer serious loss 
 than to have someone badly injured in defending the 
 place." 
 
 "You're right, Cob — quite right," cried Uncle Jack, 
 slapping the table. " Here, you make me feel like a 
 boy. I believe you were born when you were an old 
 man." 
 
 ''Nonsense!" I said, laughing. 
 
 " But you don't talk nonsense, sir. What are you — 
 a fairy changeling ? Here, let's go down to the works." 
 
 "Go down?" I said. 
 
 "To be sure. I couldn't go to bed to-night and 
 sleep. I should be thinking that those two poor fel- 
 lows were being blown up, or knobsticked, or turned
 
 120 A NIGHT VISIT. 
 
 out. We'll have them back and leave Piter to take 
 care of the works, and oive him a rise in his wa^es." 
 
 "Of an extra piece of meat every day, uncle?" 
 
 " If you had waited a few minutes longer, sir, I 
 should have said that," he replied, laughing; and tak- 
 ing his hat and stick we went down the town, talking 
 about the curious vibrations and throbbings we could 
 hear; of the heavy rumbling and the flash and glow 
 that came from the different works. Some were so 
 lit up that it seemed as if the windows were fiery eyes 
 staring out of the darkness, and more than once we 
 stopped to gaze in at some cranny where furnaces 
 were kept going night and day and the work never 
 seemed to stop. 
 
 As we left the steam-engine part behind, the solitary 
 stillness of our district seemed to be more evident; and 
 though we passed one policeman, I could not help 
 thinking how very little help we should be able to 
 find in a case of great emergency. 
 
 Uncle Jack had chatted away freely enough as we 
 went on; but as we drew nearer to the works he be- 
 came more and more silent, and when we had reached 
 the lane he had not spoken for fully ten minutes. 
 
 Eleven o'clock was striking and all seemed very 
 still. Not a light was visible on that side, and the 
 neighbouring works were apparently quite empty as 
 we stood and listened. 
 
 " Let's walk along by the side of the dam. Cob," said 
 Uncle Jack. " I don't suppose we shall see anything, 
 but let's have a look how the place seems by night." 
 
 I followed close behind him, and we passed under 
 the one gas lamp that showed the danger of the path 
 to anyone going along; for in the darkness there was 
 nothing to prevent a person from walking right into 
 the Vjlack dam, which looked quite beautiful and coun- 
 trified now, spangled all over, as it was, with the reflec- 
 tions of the stars.
 
 A FURIOUS CHALLENGE. 121 
 
 I was going to speak, but Uncle Jack raised his 
 hand for me to be silent, and I crept closer to hira, 
 wondering what reason he had for stopping me; and 
 then he turned and caught my arm, for we had reached 
 the end of the dam where it communicated with the 
 river. 
 
 Just then two men approached, and one said to the 
 other: 
 
 " Tell 'ee, they changes every night. Sometimes it's 
 one and the boy, sometimes two on 'em together. The 
 boy Avas there last night, and Hullo! 'night, mate!" 
 
 "'Niofht!" growled Uncle Jack in an assumed voice 
 as he slouched down and gave me a shake. "Coom on, 
 wilt ta!" he said hoarsely; and I followed him without 
 a word. 
 
 " I tried it, Cob," he whispered as we listened to the 
 retreating steps of the men. "I don't think they knew 
 us in the dark." 
 
 " They were talking about us," I said. 
 
 "Yes; that made me attempt to disguise my voice. 
 Here, let's get back. Hark! there's the dog. Quick! 
 something may be wrong." 
 
 We set off at a troi in the direction that the men 
 had taken, but we did not pass them, for they had 
 gone down to their right; but there was no doubt 
 existing that the affairs at the works were well known 
 and that we were surrounded by enemies ; and perhaps 
 some of them were busy now, for Jupiter kept on his 
 furious challenge, mingling it with an angry growl, 
 that told of something being wrong. 
 
 o o o
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 PANNELLS PET. 
 
 How long has the 
 
 HO'S there?" 
 
 "All right — open the door! Cob and I 
 have come down to see how you are get- 
 ting on," said Uncle Jack. 
 
 The gate was unlocked and a stout iron 
 bar that had been added to the defences taken down. 
 
 "Why, what brings you two here?" cried Uncle 
 Dick. "What's the matter?" 
 
 " That's what we want to know, 
 dog been uneasy?" 
 
 "For the past hour. I had gone to lie down; Bob 
 was watchman. All at once Piter began barkino- furi- 
 ously, and I got up directly." 
 
 " Let's have another look round," said Uncle Jack. 
 
 "Here, Piter!" I cried; "what's the matter, old 
 fellow?" 
 
 The dog whined and laid his great jowl in my hand, 
 blinking u-p at me and trying to make his savage grin 
 seem to be a pleasant smile; but all at once he started 
 away, threw up his head, and barked again angrily. 
 
 "What is it, old fellow?" I said. "Here, show us 
 them. W^hat is it?" 
 
 Piter looked at me, whined, and then barked again 
 angrily as if there was something very wrong indeed; 
 but he could only smell it in the air. What it was or 
 where it was he did not seem to know.
 
 TAKING OUR CHANCES. 123 
 
 We had a good look round, searching everywhere, 
 and not without a great deal of trepidation; for after 
 the past night's experience with the powder it was 
 impossible to help feeling nervous. 
 
 That's what Uncle Jack called it. I felt in a regular 
 fright. 
 
 " Everything seems quite satisfactory," Uncle Jack 
 was fain to say at last. And then, " Look here, boys," 
 he cried, " Cob and I have been talking this matter 
 over, and we say that the works must take care of 
 themselves. You tw^o have to come back with us." 
 
 "What! and leave the place to its fate?" said Uncle 
 Dick. 
 
 " Yes. Better do that than any mishap should come 
 to you." 
 
 "What do you say. Bob?" 
 
 "I've a very great objection to being blown up, 
 knocked on the head, or burned," said Uncle Bob 
 quietly. " It's just so with a soldier; he does not want 
 to be shot, bayoneted, or sabred, but he has to take 
 his chance. I'm going to take mine." 
 
 " So am I," said Uncle Dick. 
 
 " But, my dear boys — " 
 
 " There, it's of no use; is it, Bob?" cried Uncle Dick. 
 "If we give w^'ay he'll always be bouncing over us 
 about how he kept watch and we daren't." 
 
 "Nonsense!" cried Uncle Jack. 
 
 " Well, if you didn't," said Uncle Bob, " that cocky 
 consequential small man of a boy. Cob, will be always 
 scoinon about with his nose in the air and sneering. I 
 shall stay. 
 
 " Then we will stay with you." 
 
 My uncles opposed this plan, but Uncle Jack declared 
 that he could not sleep if he went back; so the others 
 gave in and we stayed, taking two hours turns, and 
 the night passed slowly by. 
 
 Every now and then Piter had an uneasy fit, burst-
 
 124 OUR SWARTHY GIANT. 
 
 inor out into a tremendous series of barks and howls, 
 but there seemed to be no reason for the outcry. 
 
 He was worst during the watch kept by Uncle Jack 
 and me after we had had a good sleep, and there was 
 something very pathetic in the way the poor dog looked 
 at us, as much as to say, " I wish I could speak and 
 put you on your guard." 
 
 But the night passed without any trouble; the men 
 came in to their work, and with the darkness the fear 
 seemed to have passed away. For there in the warm 
 sunshine the water of the dam was dancing and 
 sparkling, the great wheel went round, and inside the 
 works the grindstones were whizzing and the steel 
 being ground was screeching. Bellows puffed, and 
 fires roared, and there was the clink clank of hammers 
 sounding musically upon the anvils, as the men forged 
 blades out of the improved steel my uncles were trying 
 to perfect. 
 
 Business was increasing, and matters went so 
 smoothly during the next fortnight that our troubles 
 seemed to be at an end. In one week six fresh men 
 were engaged, and after the sluggish times in London, 
 where for a couple of years past business had been 
 gradually dying off, everything seemed to be most 
 encourafiincr. 
 
 Some of the men engaged were queer characters. 
 One was a great swarthy giant with hardly any face 
 visible for black hair, and to look at he seemed fit for 
 a bandit, but to talk to he was one of the most gentle 
 and amiable of men. He was a smith, and when he 
 was at the anvil he used almost to startle me, he 
 handled a heavy hammer so violently. 
 
 I often stood at tlie door watching him seize a piece 
 of steel with the tongs, whisk it out of the forge with 
 a flourish that sent the white-hot scintillations flying 
 through the place, bang it down on the anvil, and then 
 beat it savagely into the required shape.
 
 I MAKE FRIENDS. 125 
 
 Then he would thrust it into the fire again, begin 
 blowing the bellows with one hand and stroke a kitten 
 that he kept at the works with his unoccupied hand, 
 talking to it all the time in a little squeaking voice 
 like a boy's. 
 
 He was very fond of swinging the sparkling and 
 sputtering steel about my head whenever I went in, 
 but he was always civil, and the less I heeded his 
 queer ways the more civil he became. 
 
 There was a grinder, too, taken on at the same time, 
 a short round-looking man, with plump cheeks, and 
 small eyes which were often mere slits in his face. He 
 had a little soft nose, too, that looked like a plump 
 thumb, and moved up and down and to right and left 
 when he was intent upon his work. He was the best- 
 tempered man in the works, and seemed to me as if he 
 was always laughing and showing his two rows of 
 firm white teeth. 
 
 I somehow quite struck up an acquaintance with 
 these two men, for while the others looked askant at 
 me and treated me as if I were my uncle's spy, sent 
 into the works to see how the men kept on, Pannell 
 the smith and Gentles the grinder were always ready 
 to be civil. 
 
 My friendliness with Pannell began one morning 
 when I had caught a mouse up in the office overlook- 
 ing the dam, where I spent most of my time making 
 drawings and models with Uncle Bob. 
 
 This mouse I took down as a bonne bouche for 
 Pannell's kitten, and as soon as he saw the little crea- 
 ture seize it and begin to spit and swear, he rested 
 upon his hammer handle and stopped to watch it. 
 
 Next time I M'ent into the smithy he did not flourish 
 the white-hot steel round my head, but gave it a 
 flourish in another direction, banged it down upon the 
 anvil, and in a very short time had turned it into the 
 blade of a small hand-bill.
 
 126 AT THE ANVIL, 
 
 " You couldn't do that," he said smiling, as he cooled 
 the piece of steel and threw it down on the Hoor before 
 talcing- out anotlier. 
 
 " ;Not like that," I said. " I could do it roughly." 
 
 "Yah! Not you," he said. "Try." 
 
 I was only too eager, and seizing the pincers I took 
 out one of the glowing pieces of steel lying ready, laid 
 it upon the anvil and beat it into shape, forming a 
 rough imitation of the work I had been w^atching, but 
 with twice as many strokes, taking twice as long, and 
 producing work not half so good. 
 
 When I had done he picked up the implement, 
 turned it over and over, looked at me, threw it down, 
 and then w^ent and stroked his kitten, staring straight 
 before him. 
 
 " Why, I couldn't ha' done a bit o' forging like that 
 when I'd been at it fower year," he said in his high- 
 pitched voice. 
 
 " But my uncles have often shown me how," I said. 
 
 " What! can they forge?" he said, staring very hard 
 at me. 
 
 " Oh, yes, as w^ell as you can!" 
 
 He blew hard at the kitten and then shook his head 
 in a dis.satisiied way, after which it seemed as if I had 
 ofiended him, for he seized his hammer and pincers 
 and began working away very hard, finishing a couple 
 of the steel bill-hooks before he spoke again. 
 
 "Which on 'em 'vented this here contrapshion?" he 
 said, pointing to an iron bar, by touching wdiich he 
 could direct a blast of air into his fire without having 
 the need of a man or boy to blow. 
 
 " Uncle John," I said. 
 
 " What! him wi' the biggest head?" 
 
 I nodded. 
 
 "Yes; he said that wdth the w^ater-w^heel going it 
 was easy to contrive a way to blow the fires." 
 
 "Humph ! Can he forge a bill-hook or a scythe blade?"
 
 UNCLE JACK SHOWS THE WAY. 127 
 
 "Oh, yes!" 
 
 " Who's 'venting the noo steel?" 
 
 "Oh, they are all helpmg! It was Uncle Richard 
 who first started it." 
 
 "Oh, Uncle Richard, was it?" he said thoughtfully. 
 " Well, it won't niver do." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Snap a two, and never bear no edge." 
 
 " Who says so?" 
 
 " Traiide," he cried. " Steel was good enough as it 
 weer." 
 
 Just then, as luck had it, Uncle Jack came into the 
 smithy, and stood and watched the man as he scowled 
 heavily and flourished out the hot steel as if he re- 
 sented being watched. 
 
 " You are not forging those hand-bills according to 
 pattern, my man," said Uncle Jack, as he saw one 
 finished, Pannell i)eating the steel with savage vehe- 
 mence, and seeming as if he wished it were Uncle Jack's 
 head. 
 
 "That's way to forge a hand-bill," said the man 
 sourly. 
 
 " Your way," said Uncle Jack quietly. " Not mine. 
 I gave you a pattern. These are being made of a new 
 steel." 
 
 " Good for nought," said the man ; but Uncle Jack 
 paid no heed, assuming not to have heard the remark. 
 "And I want them to look difi'erent to other 
 people's." 
 
 " Do it yoursen then," said the great fellow savagely; 
 and he threw down the hammer and pincers. 
 
 " Yes, perhaps I had better," said Uncle Jack, rolling 
 up his white shirt-sleeves, after taking ofi" his coat and 
 throwing it to me. 
 
 I saw Pannell glower at the pure white skin that 
 covered great muscles as big and hard as his own, while, 
 after uniiooking a leather apron from where it hung,
 
 128 PANNELL IS WON. 
 
 the lever was touched, the fire roared, and at last Uncle 
 Jack brought out a piece of white-hot steel, banged it 
 on the anvil, and rapidly beat it into shape. 
 
 Every stroke had its object, and not one unnecessary 
 blow fell, while in a short time he held in the water, 
 wliich hissed angrily, a hand-bill that was beautifully 
 made, and possessed a graceful curve and hook that 
 the others wanted. 
 
 " There," said Uncle Jack. " That's how I want them 
 made." 
 
 The man's face was set in a savage vindictive look, 
 full of jealous anno3^ance, at seeing a well-dressed 
 gentleman strip and use the smith's hammer and pin- 
 cers better than he could have used them himself. 
 
 " Make me one now after that pattern," said Uncle 
 Jack. 
 
 It seemed to me that the giant was going to tear off 
 his leather apron furiously and stride out of the place; 
 but just then Uncle Jack stretched out his great strong 
 hand and lifted up Pannell's kitten, which had sprung 
 upon the forge and was about to set its little paws on 
 the hot cinders. 
 
 " Poor pussy!" he said, standing it in one hand and 
 stroking it with the other. " You mustn't burn those 
 little paws and singe that coat. Is this the one that 
 had the mouse. Cob/" 
 
 Just as I answered, "Yes," I saw the great smith 
 change his aspect, pick up the still hot hand-bill that 
 Uncle Jack had forged, stare hard at it on both sides, 
 and then, throwing it down, he seized the pincers in one 
 hand, the forge shovel in the other, turned on the blast 
 and made the fire glow, and at last whisked out a piece 
 of white-hot steel. 
 
 This he in turn banged down on the anvil — stithy 
 he called it — and beat into shape. 
 
 It was not done so skilfully as Uncle Jack had forged 
 his, but the work was good and quick, and when he
 
 UNPLEASANT DAYS. 129 
 
 had done, the man cooled it and held it out with all 
 the rough independence of the north-countryman. 
 
 " Suppose that may do, mcster," he said, and he stared 
 at where Uncle Jack still stroked the kitten, which 
 made a platform of his broad palm, and purred and 
 rubbed itself against his chest. 
 
 "Capitally!" said Uncle Jack, setting down the 
 kitten gently. " Yes ; I wouldn't wish to see better 
 work." 
 
 "Aw raioht!" said Pannell; and he went on with his 
 work, while Uncle Jack and I walked across the yard 
 to the office. 
 
 " We shall get all right with the men by degrees, 
 Cob," he said. " That fellow was going to be nasty, 
 but he smoothed himself down. You see now the use 
 of a master beino- able to show his men how to handle 
 their tools." 
 
 " Yes," I said, laughing; " but that was not all. Pan- 
 nell would have gone if it had not been for one thing." 
 
 "What was that?" he said. 
 
 " You began petting his kitten, and that made him 
 friends." 
 
 I often used to go into the smithy when Pannell 
 was at work after that, and now and then handled his 
 tools, and he showed me how to use them more skilfully, 
 so that we were pretty good friends, and he never 
 treated me as if I were a spy. 
 
 The greater part of the other men did, and no matter 
 how civil I was they showed their dislike by having 
 accidents as they called them, and these accidents 
 always happened when I was standing by and at no 
 other time. 
 
 For instance a lot of water would be splashed, so that 
 some fell upon me; a jet of sparks from a grindstone 
 would flash out in my face as I went past; the band of 
 a stone would be loosened, so that it flapped against 
 me and knocked off my cap. Then pieces of iron fell, 
 
 (322) I
 
 130 I GET SPLASHED. 
 
 or were thrown, no one knew which, though they 
 knew where, for the place was generally on or close 
 by my unfortunate body. 
 
 I was in the habit of frequently going to look down 
 in the wheel chamber or pit, and one day, as I stepped 
 on to the threshold, my feet glided from under me, and 
 but for my activity in catching at and hanging by the 
 iron bar that crossed the way I should have plunged 
 headlong in. 
 
 There seemed to be no reason for such a slip, but the 
 men laughed brutally, and when I looked I found that 
 the sill had been well smeared with fat. 
 
 There was the one man in the grinders' shop, though, 
 whom I have mentioned, and who never seemed to side 
 with his fellow workers, but looked half pityingly at 
 me whenever I seemed to be in trouble. 
 
 I went into the grinding shop one morning, where 
 all was noise and din, the wheels spinning and the 
 steel shrieking as it was being ground, when all at once 
 a quantity of water such as might have been thrown 
 from a pint pot came all over me. 
 
 I turned round sharply, but every one was at work 
 except the stout grinder, who, with a look of disgust 
 on his face, stood wiping his neck with a blue cotton 
 handkerchief, and then one cheek. 
 
 "Any on it come on you, mester?" he said. 
 
 "Any come on me!" I cried indignantly — "look." 
 
 " It be a shaJim — a reg'lar shaam," he said slowly; 
 " and I'd like to know who throwed that watter. Here, 
 let me." 
 
 He came from his bench, or horse as the grinders 
 call their seat, and kindly enough brushed the water 
 away from my jacket with his handkerchief. 
 
 " Don't tak' no notice of it," he said. "They're nob- 
 but a set o' fullish boys as plays they tricks, and if you 
 tell on 'em they'll give it to you worse." 
 
 I took his advice, and said nothing then, but naturally
 
 EELS IN THE DAM. 131 
 
 enough, spoke to my uncles about it when we were 
 alone at night. 
 
 "Never mind," said Uncle Dick. "I daresay we 
 shall get the fellows to understand in time that we are 
 their friends and not their enemies." 
 
 " Yes," said Uncle Jacl^ ; " they are better. I dare 
 say it will all come right in time." 
 
 It was soon after this that I went into the grinding 
 shop one day while the men were at dinner, and going 
 to the door that opened into the wheel chamber, which 
 always had a fascination for me, I stood gazing down 
 into its depths and listening to the splashing water. 
 
 '• Iver try to ketch any o' them long eels, Mester 
 Jacob?" said a familiar voice; and, starting and looking 
 back, I saw that Gentles, the fat little grinder, was 
 sitting down close to his wet grindstone eating his 
 dinner, and cutting it with a newly ground knife blade 
 forged out of our new steel. 
 
 "Eels, Gentles!" I said. "I didn't know there were 
 any there." 
 
 " Oh, but there are," he said ; " straange big 'uns. You 
 set a line with a big bait on, and you'll soon hev one." 
 
 " What, down there by the wheel?" 
 
 " Ay, or oop i' the dam. Plenty o' eels, lad, theer." 
 
 " I'll have a try," I said eagerly, for the idea of catch- 
 ing one or two of the creatures was attractive. 
 
 From that I got talking to the man about his work, • 
 and he promised to let me have a few turns at grinding. 
 
 "On'y, what am I to say if thee coots theesen?" he 
 cried with a chuckle. 
 
 "Oh, but you'll show me how to do it without!" I 
 said laucrhino;. 
 
 "Nay, but what's good o' thee wanting to grind? 
 Want to tak' work out o' poor men's hands?" 
 
 "Nonsense!" I cried angrily. "Why, Gentles, you 
 know better than that. All I want is to understand 
 thoroughly how it is done, so that 1 can talk to the
 
 132 A TRAMPLED DOWN WOROIAN. 
 
 men about their work, and show them it' it isn't 
 right." 
 
 "Oh!" he said in a curious tone of voice. "Well, 
 you coom any time when watter- wheel's going, and 
 I'll show thee all that I know. 'Tain't much. Keeps 
 men fro' starving." 
 
 "Why, Gentles," I cried; "you drew three pounds 
 five last week, and I saw you paid." 
 
 " Three pun' five! Did I?" he said. "Ah, but that 
 was a partic'lar good week. I've got a missus and a 
 lot o' bairns to keep, and times is very bad, mester," 
 
 " I'm sorry for it," I said; and I went away and had 
 a look in the books as soon as I reached the office, to 
 find that Master Gentles never drew less than_ three 
 pounds a week; but I did not remind him of it, and 
 during the next few days he very civilly showed me 
 how his work was done — that is, the knack of holding 
 and turning the blades, so that I rapidly acquired the 
 way, and was too busy to notice the peculiar looks I 
 received from the other men. 
 
 Of course I know how that I was a mere bung-ler, 
 and clumsy, and slow in the extreme; but at the time 
 I felt as if I must be very clever, and there was some- 
 thing very satisfactory in seeing a blackened hammered 
 blade fresh from the forge turn bright and clean in my 
 hands, while the edge grew sharp and even. 
 
 It was playing with edged tools with a vengeance, 
 but I did not understand it then.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 pannell's secret. 
 
 VERY day the works grew more busy, and 
 prosperity seemed to be coming upon us 
 like sunshine. The men worked steadily 
 and well, and the old opposition had appa- 
 rently died out; but all the same the watching was kept 
 up as regularly as if it was during war time, though, 
 saving an occasional burst of barking from Piter, who 
 used to have these fits apparently without cause, there 
 was nothing to alarm the watchers. 
 
 It was my turn at home, and I was up early the 
 next morning, wonderinsf how Uncle Jack and Uncle 
 Bob had got on during the night, when I came down 
 and found Mrs. Stephenson and Martha the maid en- 
 joying themselves. 
 
 Their way of enjoying themselves was peculiar, but 
 that it afforded them pleasure there could be no doubt. 
 It might have been considered a religious ceremony, 
 but though there was a kind of worship or adoration 
 about it, there was nothing religious in the matter at 
 all. 
 
 What they did was this: — To mix up a certain 
 quantity of black-lead in a little pie-dish, and then 
 kneel down before a stove, and work and slave at it 
 till there was a tremendous gloss all over the iron. 
 
 In effecting this Mrs. Stephenson used to get a little
 
 134 UNCLE JACK IS EXCITED. 
 
 smudgy, but Martha seemed to have an itching nose 
 which always itched most on these occasions, and as you 
 watched her you saw her give six scrubs at the grate 
 with tlie front of the brush, and then one rub with 
 the back on her face or nose. 
 
 This act must have been pleasant, for as she bent 
 down and scrubbed she frowned, as she sat up and 
 rubbed her nose with the back of the brush she 
 smiled. 
 
 Now if Martha had confined her rubs to her nose it 
 would not have much mattered, but in rubbing her 
 nose she also rubbed her cheeks, her chin, her forehead, 
 and the consequence was a great waste of black-lead, 
 and her personal appearance was not improved. 
 
 I was standino- watchinof the black-leading business, 
 an affection from which most north- country people 
 suffer very badly, when Uncle Jack came hurrying in, 
 looking hot and excited. 
 
 " Where's Dick?" he cried. 
 
 " In his room drawing plans," I cried. " What's the 
 matter? Is Uncle Bob hurt?" 
 
 "Xo, not a bit!" 
 
 "Then Piter is?" 
 
 " No, no, no. Here, Dick!" he shouted up the stairs. 
 
 There was a sound on the upper floor as if some one 
 had just woke an elephant, and Uncle Dick came lum- 
 berintj down. 
 
 "What's wrong?" he cried. 
 
 Uncle Jack glanced round and saw that Mrs. Ste- 
 phenson was looking up from where she knelt in the 
 fi-ont room, with her eyes and mouth wide open as the 
 door, and Martha was slowly rubbing her nose with the 
 black-lead brush and waiting for him to speak. 
 
 " Put on your hat and come down to tlie works," he 
 said. 
 
 We moved by one impulse into the pa..sage, and as 
 we reached the door Mrs. Stephenson cried:
 
 GETTING WORSE. 1.35 
 
 "Brackfass won't he long;" and then the sound of 
 black-leadinof went on. 
 
 " Now, then," said Uncle Dick as we reached the 
 street, "what is it? Anything very wrong?" 
 
 " Terribly," said Uncle Jack. 
 
 " Well, what is it ? Why don't you speak ? " 
 
 ''Come and see for yourself," said Uncle Jack bitterly. 
 "I thought matters were smoothing down, but they 
 are getting worse, and I feel sometimes that we might 
 as well give up as carry on this unequal war." 
 
 "No: don't give up, Uncle Jack," I cried. "Let's 
 fight the cowards." 
 
 " Bring them into the yard then so that we can fight 
 them," he cried angrily. "The cowardly back-stabbers; 
 sneaks in the dark. I couldn't have believed that such 
 things could go on in England." 
 
 " Well, but Ave had heard something about what the 
 Arrowfield men could do, and we knew about how in 
 the Lancashire district the work-people used to smash 
 new machinery." 
 
 "There, wait till you've seen what has happened," 
 cried Uncle Jack angrily. "You've just risen after a 
 night's rest. I've come to you after a night's watch- 
 ing, and you and I feel ditterently about the same 
 thing." 
 
 Very little more was said before we reached the 
 works, M'here the first thing I saw was a group of men 
 round the gate, talking together with their hands in 
 their pockets. 
 
 Gentles was amono; them, smokinof a short black 
 pipe, and he shut his eyes at me as we passed, which 
 was his way of bestowing upon me a smile. 
 
 When we passed through the gate the men followed 
 as if we were a set of doctors about to put something 
 i-ight for them, and as if they had been waiting for us 
 to come. 
 
 Uncle Bob was standing by the door as we came
 
 136 OUR BANDS. 
 
 across the j^ard, and as soon as we reached him he 
 turned in and we followed. 
 
 There was no occasion for him to speak; he just 
 walked along the great workshop, pointing to right 
 and left, and we saw at once why the men were idling 
 about. 
 
 Few people who read this will have any difficulty in 
 understanding what wheel-bands are. They used to 
 be very common in the streets, joining the wheels of 
 the knife-grinders' barrows, and now in almost every 
 house they are seen in the domestic treadle sewing- 
 machine. Similar to these, but varying in size, are 
 the bands in a factory. They may be broad flat 
 leather straps of great weight and size, formed by 
 sewing many lengths together, or they may be string- 
 like cords of twisted catgut. They all come under the 
 same name, and there were scores in our works con- 
 necting the shaft wheels of the main shaft turned by 
 the water-power with the grindstones of the lower 
 floor and the lathes and polishers of the upper. By 
 these connections wheel, stone, and chuck were set 
 spinning round. Without them everything was at a 
 stand-still. 
 
 As we walked down between the grindstones it was 
 plain enough to see — every wheel-band had been cut. 
 
 It was the same upstairs — broad bands and cords all 
 had been divided with a sharp knife, and Uncle Bob 
 held a piece of whetstone in his hand which had been 
 thrown down by the door, evidently after being used 
 by the miscreant who had done this cowardly trick. 
 
 As we went upstairs and saw the mischief there the 
 men followed us like a flock of sheep, waiting to see 
 what we should do, for they were perforce idle. Only 
 the smiths could work, for by accident or oversight 
 the Ijand which connected the shaft with the blowing 
 apparatus had escaped, and as we stood there by the 
 office door we could hear the clink clink of the ham-
 
 WE RECEIVE A MESSAGE. 137 
 
 mers upon the anvils and the pleasant roar of each 
 forge. 
 
 " Hallo ! What's this ?" cried Uncle Jack as he caught 
 sight of something white on the office door, which 
 proved to be a letter stuck on there by a common 
 wooden-handled shoemakers' knife having been driven 
 right through it. 
 
 " I did not see that before," said Uncle Bob excitedly. 
 
 " No, because it was not there," said Uncle Jack. 
 " I should have seen it if it had been there when I 
 came out of the office first." 
 
 "And / am sure that I should have seen it," said 
 Uncle Bob. 
 
 The letter was opened and read by Uncle Jack, who 
 passed it on to his brothers. 
 
 They read it in turn, and it was handed to me, when 
 I read as follows: 
 
 " This hears the nif as coot thera weel-bans. Stope 
 makkin noo kine steel, or be Strang and had for wurks." 
 
 "Come in the office and let's talk it over/' said Uncle 
 Bob. "This must have been placed here by someone 
 in the works." 
 
 "Yes," said Uncle Jack bitterly. "It is plain enough : 
 the wheel-bands have been cut by one of the men who 
 get their living by us, and who take our pay." 
 
 "And you see the scoundrel who wrote that letter 
 threatens worse treatment if we do not give up making 
 the new silver steel." 
 
 ""Yes," said Uncle Jack sternly as he turned to 
 Uncle Dick; "what do you mean to do?" 
 
 " Begin a fresh batch to-day, and let the men know 
 it is being done. Here, let's show them that we can 
 be as obstinate as they." Then aloud as we approached 
 the men where thej^ had grouped together, talking 
 about the "cooten bands," as they termed it. "You
 
 138 A CRUEL SHAME. 
 
 go at once to the machinist's and get a couple of men 
 sent on to repair such of these bands as they can, and 
 put new ones where they are shortened too much by 
 the mendino-." 
 
 Uncle Bob smiled at once. 
 
 "Look here," said Uncle Dick .sharply, "some of you 
 men can make shift by tying or binding your bands 
 till they are properly done." 
 
 "Ay, mester," came in a growl, and shortly after the 
 sound of steel being ground upon the sharply-spinning 
 stones was heard. An hour later a couple of men were 
 fitting bands to some of the wheels, and mending others 
 by lacing them together. 
 
 I was standing watching them as they fitted a new 
 band to Gentles' wheel, while he stood with his bared 
 arms folded, very eager to begin work again. 
 
 "Ain't it a cruel shaame?" he whispered. "Here's me, 
 a poor chap paid by the piece, and tliis morning half 
 gone as you may say. This job's a couple o' loaves out 
 o' my house." 
 
 He wiped a tear out of the corner of each half -closed 
 eye as he stared at me in a miserable helpless kind of 
 way, and somehow he made me feel so annoyed with 
 him that I felt as if I should like to slap his fat face 
 and then kick him. 
 
 I went away very much exasperated and glad to get 
 out of the reach of temptation, leaving my uncles busily 
 superintending the fitting of the bands, and helping 
 where they could do anything to start a man on again 
 with his work. And all the time they seemed to make 
 very light of the trouble, caring for nothing but get- 
 ting the men started aofain. 
 
 I went down into the smithy, where Pannell was at 
 work, and as 1 entered the place he looked for a moment 
 from tlie glowing steel he was hammering into a shape, 
 to which it yielded as if it had been so much tough 
 wax, and then went on again as if I had not been there.
 
 A FEW -WORDS WITH PANNELL. 139 
 
 His kitten was a little more friendly, though, for it 
 fan from the brickwork of the forge, leaped on to a 
 bench' behind me, and bounded from that on to my 
 back, and crept to my shoulder, where it could ri'b its 
 head against my ear. 
 
 " Well, Pannell," I said, "you've heard about the 
 cowardly trick done in the shops?" 
 
 " Ay, I heered on't," he cried, as he battered away 
 at the steel on his anvil. 
 
 "Who did it?" 
 
 "Did it!" he cried, nipping the cherry-red steel in a 
 fresh place and thrusting it back in the fire. "Don't 
 they know? Didn't they hear in the night?" 
 
 "No," I said; "they heard nothing, not a sound. 
 The dog did not even bark, they say." 
 
 " Would he bite a man hard? " 
 
 " He'd almost eat a man if he attacked him." 
 
 "Ay, he looks it," said Pannell, patting the black 
 coal-dust down over a glowing spot, 
 
 "Well, who do you think did it?" I said. 
 
 "Someone as come over the wall, I s'pose; but you'd 
 better not talk about it." 
 
 "But I like to talk about it," I said. "Oh, I 
 should like to find out who it was! It was someone 
 here." 
 
 "Here!" he cried, whiskinof out the steel. 
 
 "Yes, the sneaking, blackguardly, cowardly hound!" 
 I cried. 
 
 "Hush!" he whispered sharply; "some one may hear 
 
 again. 
 
 I stared at the great swarthy fellow, for he looked 
 sallow and scared, and it seemed so strange to me that, 
 while I only felt annoyance, he should be alarmed. 
 
 "Why, Pannell,' I cried, "what's the matter?" 
 
 " Best keep a still tongue," he said in a whisper. 
 "You never know who may hear you." 
 
 " I don't care who hears me. It was a coward and
 
 140 ABOUT STABS IN THE DARK. 
 
 a scoundrel who cut our bands, and I should like to 
 tell him so to his face." 
 
 " Ho^yd thee tongue, I say," he cried, hammering 
 away at his anvil, to drown my words in noise. " What 
 did I tell thee?" 
 
 " That some one might hear me. Well, let him. Why, 
 Pannell, you look as if you had done it yourself. It 
 wasn't you, was it?" 
 
 He turned upon me quite fiercely, hammer in hand, 
 making me think about Wat Tyler and the tax- 
 o-atherer; but he did not strike me: he brought his 
 hammer down upon the anvil with a loud clang. 
 
 " Nay," he said ; " I nivver touched no bands. It 
 warn't my wuck." 
 
 " Well, I never thought it was," I said. " You don't 
 look the sort of man who would be a coward." 
 
 " Oh, that's what you think, is it, lad?" 
 
 "Yes," I said, seating myself on the bench and stroking 
 the kitten. " A blacksmith always seems to me to be 
 a bold manly straightforward man, who would fight 
 his enemy fairly face to face, and not go in the dark 
 and stab him." 
 
 "Ah!" he said; "but I arn't a blacksmith, I'm a 
 whitesmith, and work in steel." 
 
 "It's much the same," I said thoughtfully; and then, 
 looking him full in the face: "No, Pannell, I don't 
 think you cut the bands, but I feel pretty sure you 
 know who did." 
 
 The man's jaw dropped, and he looked quite paralysed 
 for a moment or two. Then half recovering himself 
 he plunged his tongs into the fire, pulled out a sput- 
 tering white piece of glowing steel, gave it his regular 
 whirl through the air like a firework, and, instead of 
 Ijanging it on to the anvil, plunged it with a fierce 
 toss into the iron water-trough, and quenched it. 
 
 "Why, Pannell!" I cried, " what made you do that?" 
 
 He scratched his head with the hand that held the
 
 322 
 
 A TALK WITH PANNF.Ll THE SMITH,
 
 DIVIDED OPINIONS. 141 
 
 hammer, and stared at me for a few moments, and 
 then down at the black steel that he had taken drip- 
 ping from the trough. 
 
 " Dunno," he said hoarsely, " dunno, lad." 
 
 " I do," I said to myself as I set down the kitten and 
 went back to join my uncles, who were in consultation 
 in the office. 
 
 They stopped short as I entered, and Uncle Bob 
 turned to me. " Well, Philosopher Cob," he said, " what 
 do you say? Who did this cowardly act — was it some- 
 one in the neighbourhood, or one of our own men?" 
 
 "Yes, who was it?" said Uncle Dick. 
 
 " We are all divided in our opinions," said Uncle 
 Jack. 
 
 "One of our own men," I said; "and Pannell the 
 smith knows who it was." 
 
 "And will he tell?" 
 
 " No. I think the men are like schoolboys in that. 
 No one would speak for fear of being thought a 
 sneak." 
 
 " Yes," said Uncle Dick, " and not only that; in these 
 trades-unions the men are all bound together, as it 
 were, and the one who betrayed the others' secrets 
 would be in peril of his life." 
 
 "How are we to find out who is the scoundrel?" I 
 said. 
 
 Uncle Dick shook his head, and did what he always 
 found to be the most satisfactory thing in these cases, 
 set to work as hard as he could, and Uncles Jack and 
 Bob followed his example.
 
 CHAPTER XIIL 
 
 ONLY A GLASS OF WATER. 
 
 HE keeping watch of a night had now grown 
 into a regulai' business habit, and though we 
 discovered nothing, the feeling was always 
 upon us that if we relaxed our watchful- 
 ness for a few hours something would happen. 
 
 The paper stuck on the door was not forgotten by 
 my uncles, but the men went on just as usual, and the 
 workshops were as busy as ever, and after a good deal 
 of drawing and experimenting Uncle Dick or Uncle 
 Jack kept producing designs for knives or tools to be 
 worked up out of the new steel. 
 
 " But," said I one day, " I don't see that this reap- 
 ing-hook will be any better than the old-fashioned 
 one." 
 
 " The steel is better and will keep sharp longer, my 
 lad, but people would not believe that it was in the 
 slightest degree different, unless they had something 
 to see," said Uncle Dick. 
 
 So the men were set to forge and grind the different 
 shaped tools and implements that were designed, and 
 I often lieard tliem laughing and jeering at what they 
 called the "contrapshions." 
 
 My turn came round to keep the morning watch 
 about a week- after the new bands had been fitted. 
 Uncle Bob had been on guard during the night, and
 
 DROWSY WORK. 143 
 
 just as I was comfortably dreaming of" a pleasant 
 country excursion I was awakened by a cheery, 
 "Tumble up, Tumble up!" 
 
 I sat up confused and drowsy, but that soon passed 
 off as Uncle Bob laughingly told me, in sham nautical 
 parlance, that all was well on deck; weather hazy, 
 and no rocks ahead as far as he knew. 
 
 " Oh," I said yawning, " I do wish all this watching 
 was over!" 
 
 " So do I, Cob," he cried; " but never mind, we shall 
 tire the rascals out yet." 
 
 I thought to myself that they would tire us out 
 first, as I went down grumpily and disjDOsed to shiver; 
 and then, to thoroughly waken and warm myself, I 
 had a good trot round the big furnace, where the men 
 had tried to fire the powder. 
 
 It was circus-horse sort of work that running round 
 on the black ashes and iron scales, but it warmed me, 
 and as the miserable shivery feeling went off I felt 
 brighter and more ready for my task. 
 
 Piter was with me trotting close behind, as I ran 
 round and round; and when at last I was pretty well 
 out of breath I sat down on a bench, and took the 
 dog's fore-paws on my knees, as I thought about how 
 different my life here seemed from what I had ex- 
 pected. There had been some unpleasant adventures, 
 and a good deal of work, but otherwise my daily career 
 seemed to be very monotonous, and I wondered when 
 our old country trips were to be renewed. 
 
 Then I had a good look round the place upstairs 
 and down; and, so sure as I passed an open window, I 
 felt about with my hands for wires, the memory of 
 that powder-tin being too vivid to be forgotten. 
 
 I went and listened by the oflice door, and could 
 hear my uncle breathing heavily. 
 
 I went and looked out at the dam, which was always 
 worth looking at for its reflections of the heavens, but
 
 144 NIGHT IN THE WORKS. 
 
 it was perfectly still. There was no raft gliding down 
 towards the building. 
 
 Down in the grinders' shop all was still, and in the 
 darkness the different shafts and wheels looked very 
 curious and threatening, so much so that it only wanted 
 a little imagination for one to think that this was some 
 terrible torture chamber, the door at the end leading 
 into the place where the Avater torment was adminis- 
 tered, for the curious musical dripping and plashing 
 sounded very thrilling and strange in the solemnity of 
 the nioht. 
 
 That place always attracted me, and though there in 
 the darkness I did not care to open the door and look 
 down at the black water, I went and listened, and as 
 I did so it seemed that there was something; o-oino- on 
 there. Every now and then came a splash, and then 
 a hurrying as of something being drawn over wet 
 bars of wood. Then there were a series of soft thuds 
 at irregular intervals, and as I listened all this was 
 magnified by imagination, and I was ready to go and 
 call for Uncle Bob to descend when a faint squeaking 
 noise brought me to my senses and I laughed. 
 
 " Why, Piter," I said, "what a dog you are! Don't 
 you hear the rats?" 
 
 Piter rubbed his great head against me and whined 
 softly. 
 
 " Don't care for rats?" I said. " All right, old fellow. 
 I forgot that you were a bull-dog and did not care for 
 anything smaller than a bull, unless it were a man." 
 
 I stood listening for a few minutes longer, wondering 
 whether some of the sounds I could hear down by the 
 stonework were made by eels, and, recalling what 
 Gentles had said, I determined that some eveninof I 
 would have a try for the slimy fellows either down 
 below the great water-wheel or out of the office-window, 
 where I could drop a line into the deepest part of the 
 dam.
 
 A CURIOUS FIT. 145 
 
 Then I went into the smiths' shops and thought about 
 how sulky Pannell had been ever since I had talked to 
 him about the wheel-bands. 
 
 " This won't do, Piter," I said, trying to rouse myself, 
 for I was dreadfully sleepy; and I had another trot 
 with the dog after me in his solid, silent way — for he 
 rarely barked unless it was in anger — but trotted close 
 behind me wherever I mio-ht go. 
 
 I cannot tell you what a fight I had that night — for 
 it was more like night than morning. I walked fast; 
 I tried all sorts of gymnastic attitudes; I leaped up, 
 caught hold of an iron bar and swung by my arms, and 
 whenever I did these things I grew as lively as a 
 cricket; but as soon as, from utter weariness, I ceased, 
 the horrible drowsiness came on again, and as I walked 
 I actually dreamed that there was a man creeping 
 along the ground towards the building. 
 
 This seemed to wake me, and it was so real that I 
 went out to see — nothing. 
 
 Then I had another tour of the place; stood leaning 
 against door-posts, and up in corners, ready to drop 
 down with sleep, but fighting it ofi" again. 
 
 I went out across the yard and had a look at the 
 dam, lay down on the stone edge, and bathed my face 
 with the fresh cold water, turned my handkerchief 
 into a towel, and walked back in the dim, gray light, 
 seeing that morning was breaking, and beginning to 
 rejoice that I had got rid of my drowsy fit, which 
 seemed unaccountable. 
 
 Piter seemed as drowsy as I, holding his head down 
 in a heavy way as if it were more than he could 
 bear. 
 
 " Poor old boy ! Why, you seem as sleepy as I am, 
 Piter!" I said, as I seated myself on the stairs leading 
 up to the office; and he whined softly and laid his 
 head in my lap. 
 
 I thought I heard a noise just then, and looked up. 
 
 (322)
 
 146 DREAMY FANCIES. 
 
 but there was no repetition of the sound, and I sat 
 there at a turn of the stairs, leaning against the wall, 
 and wondering why the dog had not started up instead 
 of letting his heavy head drop lower in my lap. 
 
 " Why, you are as drowsy as I am, Piter," I cried 
 again, playing with his ears; "anyone would think 
 you had been taking a sleeping draught or something 
 of that kind." 
 
 He answered with a heavy snore, just like a human 
 being, and I sat gazing down and out through the 
 open doorway into the yard, thinking that it would 
 not be long now before it was broad daylight instead 
 of that half darkness that seemed so strange and misty 
 that I could only just see through the doorway and 
 distinguish the stones. 
 
 Then I could hardly see them at all, and then they 
 seemed to disappear, and I could see all over the yard, 
 and the dam and the works all at once. It was a 
 wonderful power of sight that I seemed to possess, for 
 I was looking through the walls of the upper shop, and 
 all through the lower shop, and down into the water- 
 pit. Then I was looking round the furnace, and in at 
 the smiths' forges, and at the great chimney-shaft, and 
 at the precipice by Dome Tor. 
 
 What a place that seemed! Since my uncle slipped 
 over it the slaty, shaly face appeared to have grown 
 twice as big and high, and over it and down the steep 
 slope a man was crawling right in from the Dome Tor 
 slip to our works. I saw him come along the stone 
 edge of the dam and over the wheel with the water, to 
 bob up and down in the black pit like a cork float 
 when an eel is bitino- at a bait. There he went — bob— 
 bob — bob — and down out of sight. 
 
 It seemed such a splendid bite, that, being fond of 
 fishing, I was about to strike, the absurdity of the idea 
 of fishinj; with a man for a float never striking me for 
 a moment; but, just as I was going to pull up, the
 
 THE AWAKING. 147 
 
 man was crawling over the floor of the grinders' shop, 
 and the water was not there, though the wheel seemed 
 to be going round and uttering a heavy groan at every 
 turn for want of grease. 
 
 There he was again, creeping and writhing up the 
 stairs, and higher and higher along the floor among 
 the lathes; then he was in the office, and over the bed 
 where Uncle Bob lay making a snoring noise like the 
 great water-wheel as it turned. What a curiously-long, 
 thin, writhing man he seemed to be as he crawled and 
 wriggled all over the floor and lathes and polishing- 
 wheels. Down, too, into the smiths' shops, and over 
 the half-extinct flres without burning himself, and all 
 the time the wheel went round with its snorinoj noise, 
 and the man — who was really a big eel — was ringing 
 a loud bell, and — 
 
 I jumped up wide awake, upsetting Piter, and 
 throwing his head out of my lap, when, instead of 
 springing up, he rolled heavily half-way down the 
 stairs as if he were dead. 
 
 " Why, I've been to sleep," I said angrily to myself, 
 "and dreaming all sorts of absurd nonsense! That 
 comes of thinking about fishino- for eels." 
 
 I was cold and stiff" and there was a bell ringins: in 
 the distance at some works, where the men beiran an 
 hour sooner than ours. But I took no notice ot" that, 
 for I was thinkino- about Piter, and wonderino- how 
 he could lie so still. 
 
 "Is he dead?" I thought; and I went down and felt 
 him. 
 
 He did not move; but it was evident that he w^as 
 not dead, for he snored heavil}^, and felt warm enough ; 
 but he was too fast asleep to be roused, even when I 
 took hold of his collar and shook him. 
 
 I was puzzled, and wondered whether he could have 
 had anything to make him so sleepy. 
 
 But if he had had anything to make him sleepy I
 
 14:8 THAT water-bottle! 
 
 had not, and yet I must liave been soundly asleep for 
 two or three hours. 
 
 I remembered, though, that when I last went round 
 the yard Piter had been sniffing about at something, 
 and perhaps he might have eaten what had not agreed 
 with him then. 
 
 " Poor old boy ! he'll wake up presently," I said to 
 myself as I lifted him up; and heavy enough he seemed 
 as I carried him down to his kennel, just inside the 
 door, where he lay motionless, snoring heavily still. 
 
 " Lucky thing that no one has been," I said to my- 
 self, as, feeling thoroughly ashamed of my breach of 
 trust, I went down to the dam, taking a towel with 
 me this time from out of my office-drawer, and there, 
 kneeling on the stones, I had a good bathe at my face 
 and forehead, and went back feeling ever so much 
 fresher. 
 
 The sounds of toil were rising: in the distance, and 
 over the great town the throb and hum and whirr of 
 the busy hive was rising in the sunny morning air, as, 
 with the events of the night fading away, I went in to 
 my olHce to put away the towel and use the comb and 
 brush I kept there. 
 
 That done, I was going to call Uncle Bob and walk 
 back with him to our home, for the men would soon be 
 there. 
 
 Just then the water-bottle and glass upon my desk 
 caught my eye, and, like a Hash, I remembered that I 
 had filled the glass and drunk a little water, leaving 
 the glass nearly full so as to take some more if I wanted 
 it, for a glass of water Avas, I found, a capital thing to 
 keep off drowsiness when one w^as watching. 
 
 I was sure I had left that glass nearly full, and stand- 
 ing on the desk; but I had not been and drunk any 
 more, of that I was sure. I don't know why I had not 
 gone back to have some, considering hov/ sleepy I was, 
 but I certainly had not. I was sure of it.
 
 A PATCH ON THE CARPET. 140 
 
 Then the water-bottle! It was a common plain 
 bottle such as is used on a wash-stand, and we had 
 three of them always filled with fresh cold water on 
 the desks. Mine was full when I poured some out in 
 the night, and now it was quite empty ; and as I stared 
 at it and then about the room I saw a great patch of 
 wet on the carpet. 
 
 I looked farther and there was another patch — a 
 smaller patch or big splash, as if the contents of the 
 glass had been thrown down. 
 
 It was very strange, and I could not understand it. 
 I had not thrown the water down. If I had wanted to 
 get rid of it, I should have crone to the sink outside or 
 have opened the window, and thrown it out into the 
 darn. 
 
 The matter was of small consequence, and I paid no 
 more attention to it, but went to Uncle Bob, where he 
 was lying, fighting with myself as to whether I should 
 tell him that I had been to sleep. 
 
 I did not like to speak, for I felt — well I felt as most 
 boys would under the circumstances; but I mastered 
 ray moral cowardice, as I thought, and determined to 
 tell him — after breakfast. 
 
 "Ah Cob, old chap," he cried, jumping up as I laid 
 my hand on his shoulder, "what a delicious sleep! 
 What a mornino- too — Hah! That's better." 
 
 He was dressed, for though whoever lay down, so to 
 speak, went to bed, he never undressed; so that after a 
 plunge of the face and hands in the cool fresh water, 
 and a scrub and brush, Uncle Bob was ready. 
 
 "I want my breakfast horribly, Cob," he said; "and 
 we've an hour to wait. Let's have a walk round by the 
 hill as we go home. Have you unlocked the gate?" 
 
 "Yes," I said; "before I came up to call you." 
 
 "That's right. Ah, here the men come!" for there was 
 the trampling of feet, and the noise of voices crossing 
 the yard. "Fed Piter?"
 
 150 TAKEN TO TASK. 
 
 "No; not yet," I said. "He's asleep." 
 
 "Asleep!" 
 
 "Yes; he has been asleep these three hours past — 
 asleep and snoring. He's in his kennel now. I couldn't 
 wake him." 
 
 "Nice sort of a watch-dog, Cob!" 
 
 "Yes," I said, feeling very guilty and shrinking from 
 my confession. 
 
 "Do you say you tried to wake him?" 
 
 "Yes," I said, "I took him up in my arms, and carried 
 him down to his kennel, and he was snoring all the 
 time." 
 
 "Carried him down! Where from?" 
 
 "The stairs. He went to sleep there." 
 
 "Cob!" he cried, making the blood Hush to my face, 
 and then run back to my heart — "why, what's the 
 matter, boy, aren't you well?" 
 
 "j\Iy head aches a little, and my mouth feels rather 
 hot and dry." 
 
 "And you've got dark marks under your eyes, boy. 
 You've not been asleep too, have you?" 
 
 I stared at him wildly, and felt far more unwell now. 
 
 "Why don't you speak?" he cried angrily. "You 
 haven't been to sleep, have you?" 
 
 "I was going to confess it, uncle, if you had given me 
 time," I said. "I never did such a thing before; but 1 
 couldn't keep awake, and fell asleep for over two 
 hours." 
 
 "Oh, Cob! Cob!" 
 
 "I couldn't help it, uncle," I cried passionately. "I 
 did try so hard. I walked and ran about. I stood up, 
 and danced and jumped, and went in the yard, but it 
 was all of no use, and at last I dropped down on the 
 stairs with Piter, and before I knew it I was fast." 
 
 "Was the dog asleep too?" 
 
 "He went to sleep before I did," I said bitterly. 
 
 "Humph!"
 
 GENTLES MAKES AN ANNOUNCEMENT. 151 
 
 "Don't be angry with me, Uncle Bob," I cried. "I 
 did try so hard." 
 
 "Did you take anything last night after I left you?" 
 
 "No, uncle. You know I was very sleepy when you 
 called me." 
 
 "Nothing at all?" 
 
 "Only a drop of water out of the bottle," 
 
 "Go and fetch what is left," he said. "Or no, I'll 
 come. But Piter; what did he have?" 
 
 "I don't know, only that he seemed to pick up some- 
 thing just as we were walking along the yard. That's 
 all." 
 
 "There's some fresh mischief afoot, Cob," cried Uncle 
 Bob, "and — ah, here it is! Well, my man, what is it?" 
 
 This was to Gentles, whose smooth fat face was full 
 of wrinkles, and his eyes half closed. 
 
 He took off his cap — a soft fur cap, and wrung it 
 gently as if it were full of water. Then he began 
 shaking it out, and brushing it with his cuff, and 
 looked from one to the other, giving me a salute by 
 jerking up one elbow. 
 
 "Well, why don't you speak, man; what is it?" cried 
 Uncle Bob. "Is anything wrong?" 
 
 "No, mester, there aren't nought wrong, as you may 
 say, though happen you may think it is. Wheel-bands 
 hev been touched again."
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 UNCLE bob's patient. 
 
 NCLE BOB gave me a sharp look that 
 seemed to go through me, and then strode 
 into tlie workshop, while I followed him 
 trembling with anger and misery, to think 
 that I should have gone to sleep at such a time and let 
 the miscreants annoy us again like this. 
 
 "Not cut this time," said Uncle Bob to me, as we 
 went from lathe to lathe, and from to stone. Upstairs 
 and downstairs it was all the same; every band of 
 leather, gutta-percha, catgut, had been taken away, and, 
 of course, the whole of this portion of the works would 
 be brouo-ht to a stand. 
 
 I felt as if stunned, and as guilty as if I had shared 
 in the plot by which the bands had been taken away. 
 
 The men were standing about stolidly watching us. 
 Thev did not complain about their work beino^ at a 
 stand-still, nor seem to mind that, as they were paid 
 by the amount they did, they would come short at the 
 end of the week : all they seemed interested in was the 
 way in which we were going to bear the loss, or act. 
 
 "Does not look like a walk for us, Cob," said Uncle 
 Bob. "What a cruel shame it is!" 
 
 "Uncle," I cried passionately, for we were alone now, 
 "I can't tell you how ashamed I am. It's disgraceful. 
 I'm not fit to be trusted. I can never forgive myself, 
 but I did try so very very hard."
 
 DRUGGED, 153 
 
 "Try, my boy!" he said taking my hand; "why, of 
 course, you did. I haven't blamed you." 
 
 "No, but I blame myself," I cried. 
 
 "Nonsense, my boy! let that rest." 
 
 "But if I had kept awake I should have detected 
 the scoundrel." 
 
 "No, you would not, Cob, because if you had been 
 awake he would not have come; your being asleep was 
 his opportunity." 
 
 "But I ought not, being on sentry, to have gone to 
 sleep." 
 
 " But, my dear Cob, people who are drugged cannot 
 help going to sleep." 
 
 "Drugged!" 
 
 '■' To be sure. Didn't you say that you drank a little 
 water and afterwards grew sleepy?" 
 
 " But I did not know it was the water." 
 
 " Here, let me look at your bottle and glass." 
 
 I took him into the office and showed him the empty 
 receptacles and the two patches on the floor, 
 
 " Clumsily done. Cob," he said after looking at and 
 smelling them. " This was done to keep anyone sus- 
 picious from examining the water. Yes, Cob, you were 
 drugged." 
 
 "Oh, Uncle Bob," I cried excitedly, "I hope I 
 was! 
 
 " I don't see why you need be so hopeful, but it is 
 very evident that you were. There, don't worry your- 
 self about it, my boy. You always do your duty and 
 we've plenty to think of without that. We shall spoil 
 two breakfasts at home." 
 
 " But, uncle," I cried, clinging to his arm, " do you 
 really think I may believe that my sleepiness came 
 from being druo-o-ed?" 
 
 " Yes, yes, yes," he cried half angi-ily, " Now are 
 you satisfied? Come and let's have a look at the dog." 
 
 I felt quite guilty at liaving forgotten poor Piter so
 
 154 PITER IN DIFFICULTIES. 
 
 long, and descending with my uncle we were soon 
 kneeling by the kennel. 
 
 He had not stirred since I put him in, but lay snoring 
 heavily, and no amount of shaking seemed to have the 
 least cft'ect. 
 
 " The poor brute has had a strong dose, Cob," said 
 Uncle Bob, "and if we don't do something he will 
 never wake again." 
 
 "Oh, uncle!" I cried, for his words sent a pang 
 through me. I did not know how much I had grown 
 to like the faithful piece of ugliness till my uncle had 
 spoken as he did. 
 
 " Yes, the wretches have almost done for him, and 
 I'm glad of it." 
 
 "Glad!" I cried as I lifted poor Piter's head in my 
 hand and stroked it. 
 
 " Glad it was that which made the poor brute silent. 
 I thought he had turned useless through his not giving 
 the alarm." 
 
 " Can't we do something, uncle?" I cried. 
 
 " I'm tliinking. Cob," he replied, " it's not an easy 
 thinff to o-ive doo-s antidotes, and besides we don't know 
 what he has taken. Must be some narcotic though. 
 I know what we'll do. Here, carry him down to the 
 dam." 
 
 A number of the workmen were looking on stolidly 
 and whispering to one another as if interested in what 
 we were froinu' to do about the dos:. Some were in the 
 yard smoking, some on the stairs, and every mans 
 hands were deep in his pockets. 
 
 " Say," shouted a voice as I carried the dog out into 
 the yard, following Uncle Bob while the men made room 
 for us, " they're a goin' to drown bull poop." 
 
 I hurried on after my uncle and heard a trampling 
 of feet behind me, but I took no notice, only as I 
 reached the dam there was quite a little crowd closing 
 in.
 
 UNCLE BOB SPEAKS. 155 
 
 " Wayert a minute, mester," said one of the grinders. 
 " I'll get 'ee bit o' iron and a Lit o' band to tie round 
 poop's neck." 
 
 For answer, Uncle Bob took the dog by his collar 
 and hind legs, and kneeling down on the stone edge of 
 the dani plunged him head first into the water, drew 
 him out, and plunged him in again twice. 
 
 " Yow can't drownd him liak that," cried one. 
 
 " He's dowsing on him to bring him round," said 
 another; and then, as Uncle Bob laid the dog down 
 and stood up to watch him, there was a burst of 
 laughter in the little crowd, for all our men were 
 collected now. 
 
 " Yes, laugh away, you cowardly hounds," said Uncle 
 Bob indignantly, and I looked at him wonderingly, for 
 he had always before seemed to be so quiet and good- 
 tempered a fellow. " It's a pity, I suppose, that you 
 did not kill the dog right out the .same as, but for a 
 lucky accident, you might have poisoned this boy here." 
 
 "Who poisoned lad<"' said a grinder whom I had 
 seen insolent more than once. 
 
 " I don't know," cried Uncle Bob ; " but I know it 
 was done by the man or men who stole those bands 
 last night; and I know that it was done by someone 
 in these works, and that you nearly all of you know 
 who it was." 
 
 There was a low growl here. 
 
 "And a nice cowardly contemptible trick it was!" 
 cried Uncle Bob, standing up taller than any man 
 there, and with his eyes flashing. " I always thought 
 Englishmen were plucky, straightforward fellows, 
 above such bl'ackguards' tricks as these. Workmen! 
 Why, the scoundrels who did this are unworthy of the 
 name." 
 
 There was another menacing growl here. 
 
 •* Too cowardly to fight men openly, they come in 
 the night and strike at boys, and dogs, and steal."
 
 156 TTTREATENINGS. 
 
 " Yow look3'-e here," said the big grinder, taking off 
 his jacket and baring his strong arms; "j-ow called me 
 a coward, did youT' 
 
 "Yes, and any of you who know who did this 
 coward's trick," cried Uncle Bob angrily. 
 
 " Then tek that!" cried the man, striking at him full 
 in the face. 
 
 I saw Uncle Bob catch the blow on his right arm, 
 dart out his left and strike the big grinder in the 
 mouth; and then, before he could recover himself, my 
 uncle's right list flashed through the air like lightning, 
 and the man staggered and then fell with a dull thud, 
 the back of his head striking the stones. 
 
 There was a loud yell at this, and a chorus rose: 
 
 " In wi' 'em. Throost 'em i' th' dam," shouted a voice, 
 and half a dozen men advanced menacingl}'-; but Uncle 
 Bob stood firm, and just then Pannell the smith strode 
 before them. 
 
 "Howd hard theer," he cried in his shrill voice. "Six 
 to one, and him one o' the mesters." 
 
 Just then Uncles Jack and Dick strode in through 
 the gates, saw the situation at a glance, and ran to 
 strengthen our side. 
 
 "What's this?" roared Uncle Dick furiously, as 
 Uncle Jack clenched his fists and looked round, as it 
 >seemed to me, for some one to knock down. " In to 
 your work, every man of you." 
 
 " Bands is gone," said a sneering voice. 
 
 "Then get off our premises, you dogs!" he roared. 
 " Out of that gate, I say, every man who is against us." 
 
 "Oh, we're not agen you, mester," said Gentles 
 smoothly. "I'm ready for wuck, on'y the bands is 
 gone. Yow mean wuck, eh, mates?" 
 
 " Then go and wait till we have seen what is to be 
 done. Do you hear? — go." 
 
 He advanced on the men so fiercely that they backed 
 from him, leaving Pannell only, and 'he stooped to help
 
 ANOTHER PLUNGE FOR TITEll. 15? 
 
 up the big grinder, who rose to his feet shaking his 
 head like a doo- does to set the water out of his ears, 
 for thei'e must have been a loud sino-ino- noise there. 
 
 " Off with you!" said Uncle Dick turning upon these 
 two. 
 
 " Aw reight, mester," said Pannell. " I were on'y 
 helping the mate. Mester Robert there did gie him a 
 blob." 
 
 Pannell was laughing good-humouredly, and just 
 then Uncle Bob turned upon him. 
 
 " Thank 3-ou, Pannell," he said quickly. " Pm glad 
 we have one true man in the place." 
 
 "Oh, it's aw reight, mester," said the smith. "Here, 
 coom along, thou'st had anew to last thee these two 
 months." 
 
 As he spoke he half dragged the big grinder away 
 to the workshop, and Uncle Bob rapidly explained the 
 state of affairs. 
 
 " It's enough to make us give up," cried Uncle Dick 
 angrily. " We pay well ; we're kind to our men ; we 
 never overwoi'k them; and yet they serve us these 
 blackguard tricks. Well, if they want to be out of 
 work they shall be, for I'll agree to no more bands 
 being bought till the scoundrels come to their senses." 
 
 " But we will not be beaten," cried Uncle Jack, who 
 looked disappointed at there being no more fighting. 
 
 " No," said Uncle Bob, wiping his bleeding knuckles 
 " I feel as if I had tasted blood, as they say, and I'm 
 ready to fight now to the end." 
 
 "And all the time we are talkincr and letting^ that 
 poor dog perish! The cowards!" cried Uncle Dick 
 fiercely. "Is he dead?" 
 
 " No," I said; "I saw one of his ears quiver a little, 
 but he is not breathing so loudly." 
 
 " Give him another plunge," said Uncle Jack. 
 
 Uncle Bob took the dog as before and plunged him 
 once more in the cold clean water; and this time, as
 
 158 A FKESH LETTER. 
 
 soon as he was out, he struggled slightly and choked 
 and panted to get his breath. 
 
 "We must get him on his legs if we can," said Uncle 
 Bob; and for the next half hour he kept trying to 
 make the dog stand, but without avail, till he had 
 almost given up in despair. Then all at once poor Piter 
 beoan to whine, stru<rnled to his feet, fell down, strug- 
 gled up again, and then began rapidly to recover, and 
 at last followed us into the ofHce — where, forgetful 
 of breakfast, we began to discuss the present state of 
 the war. 
 
 The tirst thing that caught my eye as we went in 
 was a letter stuck in the crack of the desk, so that it 
 was im[)ossible for anyone to pass without seeing it. 
 
 Uncle Jack took the letter, read it, and passed it 
 round, Uncle Bob reading last. 
 
 I asked what it was as I stooped over poor Piter, 
 who seemed stupid and confused and shivered with 
 the wet and cold. 
 
 "Shall I tell him?" said Uncle Bob, looking at his 
 brothers. 
 
 They looked at one another thoughtfully, nodded, 
 and Uncle Bob handed me the note; and a precious 
 composition it was. 
 
 " You London Cockneys," it began, " you've had 
 plenty warnings 'bout your (jimcracks and contrap- 
 sJtions, and wouldn't take 'em. Now look Jtere, we 
 vjon't hev 'em in Arrowjield, robbing hard-workin 
 men of toil of their hard earns and takin' bread out o' 
 xvife and childers moutJis and starvin famlies, so look 
 out. If you tJvree an thut sorcy hoy don't pack up 
 your traps and he off, we'll come and pack 'em up for 
 you. So now you know." 
 
 "What does this mean?" I said, looking from one to 
 the other.
 
 "IT MEANS war!" 159 
 
 " It means war, my lad," said Uncle Dick fiercely. 
 
 "You will not take any notice of this insolent 
 letter?" I said. 
 
 "Oh yes, but we will!" said Uncle Jack. 
 
 "Not give up and go like cowards?" 
 
 " I don't think we shall, Cob," said Uncle Jack laugh- 
 ing. "No; we're in the right and they are in the 
 wronfT. We've ii'ot a strong tower to tio-ht in and de- 
 fend ourselves; they've got to attack us here, and I 
 think they'll be rather badly off if they do try any- 
 thing moi'e serious." 
 
 " This has been bad enough," said Uncle Bob. "You 
 did not fully understand how narrowan escape Cob had." 
 
 And he related all. 
 
 "The scoundrels!" said Uncle Jack, grinding his 
 teeth. " And now this means threatenings of future 
 attacks." 
 
 " Well," said Uncle Dick, "if they do come I'm afraid 
 someone will be very much hurt — more so than that 
 man Stevens you knocked down." 
 
 "And made a fresh enemy for us," said Uncle Jack, 
 lauohing. 
 
 "And showed who was a friend," I said, remember- 
 ing Pannell's action. 
 
 " To be sure," said Uncle Jack. " Well, if anyone is 
 hurt it will be the attacking party, for I am beginning 
 to feel vicious." 
 
 "Well, what about the wheels?" said Uncle Bob. 
 " Every band has gone, and it will be a heavy expense 
 to restore them." 
 
 " Let's go and have breakfast and think it over," 
 said Uncle Dick. " It's bad to decide in haste. "Listen! 
 what are the men doings?" 
 
 " Going out in the yard, evidently," said Uncle Bob. 
 "Yes, and down to the gate." 
 
 So it proved, for five minutes later the place was 
 completely empty.
 
 IGO WHAT IS JVIACHINERY? 
 
 " Why, they've forsaken us," said Uncle Dick bitterly. 
 
 " Never mind," said Uncle Bob. " Let's have our 
 breakfast. We can lock up the place." 
 
 And this we did, taking poor old Piter with us, who 
 looked so helpless and miserable that several dogs 
 attacked him on our way home, anticipating an easy 
 victory. 
 
 But they did Piter good, rousing him up to give a 
 bite here and another there — one bite being all his 
 enemies cared to receive before rushing off, yelping- 
 apologies for the mistake they had made in attacking 
 the sickly-looking heavy-eyed gentleman of their kind. 
 
 Piter had jaws like a steel trap, as others beside 
 dogs found before long. 
 
 When we went back to tlie works the gatekeeper 
 left in charge said that several of the men had been 
 back, but had gone again, it having been settled that 
 no more work was to be done till the wheel-bands were 
 restored; so the fires were going out, and the smiths, 
 who could have gone on, had to leave their forges. 
 
 "Well," said tlncle Dick, laughing bitterly, as he 
 gave his beard a sharp tug, " I thought that we were 
 masters here." 
 
 "Quite a mistake," said Uncle Jack; "the men are 
 the masters; and if we do anything that they in their 
 blind ignorance consider opposed to their interests they 
 punish us." 
 
 "Well, you see, sir," said the gatekeeper, "it's like 
 this here, sir — work's quite scarce enough, and the men 
 are afi'aid that new steel or new machinery will make 
 it worse." 
 
 " Tell them to take the scales off their eyes, then," 
 said Uncle Dick. "Oppose machinery, do they?" 
 Y es, sir. 
 
 "Then if someone invented a new kind of grind- 
 stone to grind tools and blades in a quarter of the 
 time, what would they do?"
 
 WE PERSEVERE. 161 
 
 " Smash it, sir, or burn the place it was in," said the 
 man with a grin. 
 
 " Then why don't they smash np the grindstones 
 they use now? They are machinery." 
 
 " What! grindstones, sir? Oh, no!" 
 
 " But they are, man, I tell you," cried Uncle Dick 
 angrily. " The first men who ground knives or shears 
 rubbed them on a rough piece of stone; then I dare 
 say a cleverer man found it was handier to rub the 
 blade with the stone instead of the stone with the 
 blade; and then someone invented the round grind- 
 stone which turned and ground whatever was held 
 against it." 
 
 " Come along," said Uncle Jack sharply. "You are 
 wasting breath. They will not believe till they find 
 all this out for themselves." 
 
 We went in and had a good look round the place, 
 but there was not a band to be found. There had 
 been no cutting — every one had been carried away, 
 leaving no trace behind; and I wanted a good deal of 
 comforting to make me satisfied that it was not my 
 fault. 
 
 But my uncles were very kind to me, and told me 
 at once that I was to say no more, only to be thankful 
 that I had not drunk more heartily of the water, and 
 been made ill as the dog, who, in spite of seeming better, 
 kept having what I may call relapses, and lying down 
 anywhere to have a fresh sleep. 
 
 The look round produced no result, and the day was 
 spent in the silent works writing letters, book-keeping, 
 and talking rather despondently about the future. 
 
 It seemed so strange to me as I went about. No 
 roaring fires and puffing bellows; no clink of hammer 
 or anvil, and no churr and screech of steel being held 
 against the revolving stones. There was no buzz of 
 voices or shouting from end to end of the workshop, 
 and instead of great volumes of smoke rolling out of 
 
 ( 322 ) L
 
 162 WAITING. 
 
 the top of the tall chimney-shaft, a little faint gi'ay 
 cloud slowly curled away into the air. 
 
 Then there was the great wheel. The dam was full 
 and overflowing, but the wheel was still; and when I 
 looked in, the water trickled and plashed down into 
 the gloomy chamber with its mossy, slimy stone sides, 
 while the light shone in at the opening, and seemed to 
 make bright bands acro>;s the darkness before it played 
 upon the slightly agitated waters. 
 
 Then a long discussion took place, in which it was 
 asked whether it would be wise to buy new bands, and 
 to ask the men to come back and work; but opinion 
 was against this. 
 
 " No," said Uncle Jack. " I'm for being as obstinate 
 as they are. We've had our bands injured once; now 
 let's show them that if they can afford to wait so can 
 we. We can't, neither can they, but there must be a 
 little obstinacy practised, and perhaps it will bring 
 them to their senses." 
 
 " And make them bring back our bands ? " I ventured 
 to say. 
 
 "Ah, I'm not so hopeful about that!" cried Uncle 
 Bob. "I'm afraid that we shall have to buy new 
 ones." 
 
 " Yes," said Uncle Dick; " but I would not mind that 
 if by so doing we could get the men to behave well to 
 us in the future." 
 
 "And we never shall," said Uncle Jack, "till Cob 
 here ceases to be such a tyrant. The men are afraid 
 of him." 
 
 " Why, uncle!" I exclaimed; and they all laughed at 
 my look of injury. 
 
 That night Uncle Jack and Uncle Dick kept watch; 
 next night we took our turn again, and so matters 
 went on for a week. Now and then we saw some of 
 our men idling about, but they looked at us in a heavy 
 stolid way, and then slouched off.
 
 gentles' opinions, 163 
 
 The works seemed to be very melancholy and strange, 
 but we went there regularl}^ enough, and when we had 
 a fire going and stayed in there was no doubt about 
 the matter; we were watched. 
 
 Piter grew quite well again, and in his thick head 
 there seemed to be an idea that he had been very badly 
 used, for, as he walked close at my heels, I used to see 
 him give the workmen very ugly looks in a sidewise 
 fashion that I used to call measuring legs. 
 
 One morning my uncles said that they should not 
 go to the works that day, and as they did not seem to 
 want me I thought I would go back and put a project 
 I had in my mind in force. 
 
 I had passed the night at the works in company with 
 Uncle Jack, and all had been perfectly quiet, so, putting 
 some bones in the basket for Piter, I also thrust in some 
 necessaries for the task I had in hand, and started. 
 
 About half-way there I met Gentles, the fat-faced 
 grinder, and he shut his eyes at me and slouched up 
 in his affectionate way. 
 
 " Ah ! Mester Jacob," he said, " when's this here un- 
 happy strike going to end?" 
 
 " When the rascals who stole our bands bring them 
 back," I said, " and return to their work." 
 
 "Ah!" he sighed, "Pm afraid they wean't do that, 
 my lad. Hedn't the mesters better give in, and not 
 make no more noof angle stoof ?" 
 
 "Oh, that's what you think, is it. Gentles?" I said. 
 
 " Who? Me, mester? Oh, no: I'm only a pore hard- 
 working chap who wants to get back to his horse. It's 
 what the other men say. For my part I wishes as there 
 w^as no unions, stopping a man's work and upsetting 
 him; that I do. Think the mesters'll give in, Mester 
 Jacob, sir?" 
 
 " I'm sure they will not, Gentles," I said, " and you 
 had better tell the men so." 
 
 " Nay, I durstn't tell 'em. Oh, dear, no, Mester
 
 164 PANNELL IS CLOSE. 
 
 Jacob, sir. I'm a quiet peaceable man, I am. I on'y 
 wants to be let alone." 
 
 I went on, thinking, and had nearly reached the lane 
 by the works, when I met Pannell, who was smoking a 
 short black pipe. 
 
 "Hello!" he cried. 
 
 "Hello! Pannell," I said. 
 
 " Goin' to open wucks, and let's get on again, lad ? " 
 
 " Whenever jou men like to bring back the bands 
 and apologize, Pannell." 
 
 " Nay, I've got nowt to 'pologize for. I did my wuck, 
 and on'y wanted to be let alone." 
 
 " But you know who took the bands," I cried. "You 
 know who tried to poison our poor dog and tried to 
 blow up the furnace, now don't you?" 
 
 He showed his great teeth as he looked full at me. 
 
 " Why, my lad," he said, " yow don't think I'm going 
 to tell, do 'ee?" 
 
 " You ought to tell," I cried. " I'm sure you know ; 
 and it's a cowardly shame." 
 
 " Ay, I s'pose that's what you think," he said quietly. 
 "But, say, lad, isn't it time wuck began again?" 
 
 " Time ! Yes," I said. "Why don't you take our side, 
 Pannell; my uncles are your masters?" 
 
 "Ay, I know that, lad," said the big smith quietly; 
 "but man can't do as he likes here i' Arrowfield. Eh, 
 look at that!" 
 
 "Well, mate," said a rough voice behind me; and I 
 saw the smith start as Stevens, the tierce grinder, came 
 up, and without taking any notice of me address the 
 smith in a peculiar way, fixing him with his eye and 
 clapping him on the shoulder. 
 
 " Here, I want to speak wi' thee," he said sharply. 
 " Coom and drink." 
 
 It seemed to me that he regularly took the big smith 
 into custody, and marched him off". 
 
 This set me thinking about how they must be all
 
 I GO A FISHING. 165 
 
 leagued together; but I forgot all about the matter as 
 I opened the gate, and Piter came charging down at 
 me, delighted to have company once more in the great 
 lonely works. 
 
 The next minute he was showing his intelligence by 
 smelling the basket as we walked up to the door to- 
 gether. 
 
 I gave him some of the contents to amuse him 
 and then entering the deserted grinding shop, walket, 
 straight to the door at the end opening into the greaV. 
 wheel-pit, and throwing it back stood upon the little 
 platform built out, and looked down at the black water, 
 which received enough from the full dam to keep it in 
 motion and make the surface seem to be covered with 
 a kind of thready film that was always opening and 
 closing, and spreading all over the place to the very 
 walls. 
 
 It looked rather black and unpleasant, and seemed 
 to be a place that might contain monsters of eels or 
 other fish, and it was to try and catch some of these 
 that I had taken advantage of the holiday-time and 
 come. 
 
 For I had several times called to mind what Gentles 
 had said about the fish in the dam and pit, and meant 
 to have a turn; but now I was here everything was so 
 silent and mysterious and strange, that I rather shrank 
 from my task, and began to wonder what I should do 
 if I hooked some monster too large to draw out. 
 
 " What a coward I am !" I said aloud; and taking the 
 stout eel-line I had brought, and baiting the two hooks 
 upon it with big worms, I gathered up the cord quite 
 ready and then made a throw, so that my bait went 
 down right beneath the wheel, making a strange echo- 
 ing splash tliat whispered about the slimy walls. 
 
 " Looks more horrible than ever," I said to myself, 
 as I shook off my dislike, and sat down on the little 
 platform with my legs dangling over the water.
 
 166 EEL THE FIRST. 
 
 But I could not quite shake off my dread, for the 
 feeling came over me: suppose some horrible serpent- 
 like water creature were to raise its head out of the 
 black depths, seize me by the foot, and drag me down. 
 
 It was an absurd idea, but I could not lioht against 
 it, and I found mj^self drawing my legs up and sitting 
 down tailor fashion with my feet beneath me. 
 
 And there I sat with not a sound but the dripping 
 water to be heard, and a curious rustling that I soon 
 after made out to be Piter busy with his bone. 
 
 A quarter of an hour, half an hour, passed away, and 
 I did not get a touch, so drawing up my line I restored 
 the baits and threw in again, choosing the far-ofi' corner 
 of the pit close by where the water escaped to the 
 stream below. 
 
 The bait had not been down a minute, and I was just 
 wondering whether Gentles was correct about there 
 being any fish there, when I felt the line softly drawn 
 through my fingers, then there was a slight quivering- 
 vibration, and a series of tiny jerks, and the line began 
 to run faster, while my heart began to beat with antici- 
 pation. 
 
 " He was right," I exclaimed, as I tightened the line 
 with a jerk, and then a sliarp little struggle began, as 
 the fish I had hooked rushed hither and thither, and 
 fought back, and finally was dragged out of the water, 
 tying itself up in a knot which bobbed and slipped 
 about upon the floor as I dragged it iuto the grinding- 
 room, and cut the line to set it free, for it was impos- 
 sible to get the hook out of the writhing creature's 
 jaws. 
 
 It was an eel of about a pound weight, and, excited 
 now by tlie struggle, 1 fastened on a fresh hook, baited 
 it, and threw in the same place again. 
 
 Quite half an hour elapsed before I had another bite, 
 and knowintj how nocturnal these creatures are in their 
 habits, I was just thinking that if I liked next time I
 
 EEL THE SECOND. 167 
 
 was on the watch I might throw a line in here, and 
 keep catching an eel every now and then, when — 
 
 Check! A regular sharp jerk at the line, and I 
 knew that I had hooked a good one, but instead of the 
 line tightening it suddenly grew quite slack. 
 
 For a moment I was afraid that the fish had broken 
 away, but I realized directly that it had rushed over 
 to my side of the wheel-pit, and it had come so swiftly 
 that I began to think that it could not be an eel. 
 
 I had not much line to gather in, though, before I 
 felt the check aojain, and a furious tusj given so hard 
 that I let the line run, and several yards were drawn 
 through my fingers before I began to wonder where 
 the eel or other fish I had hooked had gone. 
 
 " Perhaps there is a passage or drain under the 
 works," I thought as I dragged at the line, now to 
 feel some answering throbs; but the fish did not run 
 any farther, only remained stationary. 
 
 " What a monster!" I cried, as I felt what a tremen- 
 dous weight there was against me. I drew the line 
 and gained a little, but gave way for fear it should 
 break. 
 
 This went on for ten minutes or so. I was in a state 
 of the greatest excitement, for I felt that I had got hold 
 of a monster, and began to despair of dragging it up to 
 where I was. Such a thing seemed impossible, for the 
 line would give way or the hook break from its hold 
 I was sure. 
 
 In place of jerking about now, the fish was very still, 
 exercising a kind of inert force against its captor; but 
 I was in momentary expectation of a renewal of the 
 battle, and so powerful did the creature seem, so enor- 
 mously heavy was it, that I began to regret my success, 
 and to wonder what the consequences would be if I 
 were to get the large eel up there on the floor. 
 
 One moment I saw myself flying for my life from 
 a huge writhing open-mouthed creature, and saved by
 
 168 hurrah! 
 
 a gallant attack made by Piter, who, hearing the noise, 
 had dashed in open-jawed to seize the fierce monster 
 by the neck; the next I was calling myself a donkey. 
 
 " Wh}', of course!" I cried. "When I hooked it the 
 creature ran in towards me, and has darted in and out 
 of some grating and wound the line tightly there." 
 
 That could not be the case, I felt as I pulled, for 
 though it was evident that the fish had entano-led the 
 line, it was in something loose which I got nearly to 
 the surface several times, as I gazed down there in 
 the darkness till all at once, just as I was straining my 
 eyes to make out what it was that was entangled with 
 my hook, the cord snapped, there was a dull plash below 
 me, the water rippled and babbled against the side, and 
 all was still once more. 
 
 I stood gazing down for a few minutes, and then 
 a flash of intelligence shot through me, and I darted 
 back, rapidly coiling up my wet line and taking it and 
 my basket up into the ofiice, from whence I came hurry- 
 ing out, and ready to dash down two steps at a time. 
 
 "Why, of course," I kept on saying to myself; "what 
 stupids!" 
 
 I ran across the yard, unlocked and relocked the 
 gate, leaving Piter disappointed and barking, and hur- 
 ried back to the house, where my uncles were busy 
 over some correspondence. 
 
 "Hurrah!" I cried. " I've found it all out. Come 
 along! Down to the works!" 
 
 "You've found out!" cried Uncle Dick starting. 
 
 "Found it all out!" I cried excitedly. "Now, then, 
 all of you! Come on and see." 
 
 1 slipped down to Mrs. Stephenson after telling my 
 uncles to go slowly on and that I would overtake them, 
 and that lady smiled in my face as soon as she saw me. 
 
 "Don't say a word!" she cried. " I know what you 
 want. Tattsey, get out the pork-pie." 
 
 " No, no," I cried; "you mistake. I'm not hungry."
 
 I GO BORROWING. 1C9 
 
 " Nonsense, my dear! and if you're not hungry now, 
 you will be before long. I've a beautiful raised pie 
 of my own making. Have a bit, my dear. Bring it, 
 Tattsey." 
 
 It was, I found, one of the peculiarities of these 
 people to imagine everybody was hungry, and their 
 hospitality to their friends was without stint. 
 
 Tattsey had not so much black-lead on her face as 
 usual. In fact it was almost clean, while her hands 
 were beautifully white, consequent upon its being 
 peggy day; that is to say, the day in which clothes 
 were washed in the peggy tub, and kept in motion by 
 a four-legged peggy, a curious kind of machine with a 
 cross handle. 
 
 So before I could say another word the pork-pie 
 was brought out on the white kitchen-table, and Mrs. 
 Stephenson began to cut out a wedge. 
 
 " May I take it with me," I said, "and eat it as I go 
 along?" 
 
 "Bless the boy; yes, of course," said our homely 
 landlady. "Boys who are growing want plenty to 
 eat. I hate to see people starve." 
 
 " But I want you to do me a favour," I said. 
 
 " Of course, my dear. What is it ? " 
 
 ' I want you to lend me your clothes-line." 
 
 " What, that we are just going to put out in the 
 yard for the clean clothes? I should just think not 
 indeed." 
 
 "How tiresome!" I cried. "Well, never mind; I 
 must buy a bit. But will you lend me a couple of 
 meat-hooks?" 
 
 " Now, what in the world are you going to do with 
 a clothes-line and two meat-hooks?" 
 
 " I'm going fishing," I said impatiently. 
 
 " Now don't you talk nonsense, my dear," said our 
 plump landlady, looking rather red. " Do you think 
 I don't know better than that?"
 
 170 MEAT-HOOKS AND CLOTHES-LINE. 
 
 " But I am ffoinor fishins; " I cried. 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " In our wheel-pit." 
 
 " Then there's someone drownded, and you are going 
 to fish him out." 
 
 "No, no," I cried. "Will you lend me the hooks?" 
 
 " Yes, I'll lend you the hooks," she said, getting them 
 out of a drawer." 
 
 " We sha'n't want the old clothes-line," said Tattsey 
 slowly. 
 
 " No, we sha'n't want the old clothes-line," said Mrs. 
 Stephenson, looking at me curiously. " There, you can 
 have that." 
 
 " I'll tell you all about it when I come back," I cried 
 as the knot of clean cord was ham led to me; and put- 
 ting an arm through it and the hooks in my pocket 
 I started off at a run, to find myself face to face with 
 Gentles before I overtook my uncles. 
 
 "Goin^c a walluckinsr, Mester Jacob?" he said. 
 
 "No; I'm going a-fishing." 
 
 "What, wi' that line, Mester?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Arn't it a bit too thick, Mester?" 
 
 ''Not in the least, Gentles," I said; and leaving him 
 rubbing his face as if to smooth it after being shaved, 
 I ran on and overtook my uncles just before we reached 
 the works. 
 
 " Thouglit you weren't coming, Cob," said Uncle 
 Dick. " What are you going to do with the rope?" 
 
 " Have patience," I said laughing. 
 
 Just then we passed Stevens, who scowled at us as 
 he saw me with tlie rope, while Pannell, who was with 
 him, stared, and his face slowly lit up with a broad grin. 
 
 They turned round to stare after us as we went to 
 the gate, and then walked off quickly. 
 
 " \Vhat does that mean, oh, boy of mystery?" said 
 Uncle Jack.
 
 THE BIG CATCH. 171 
 
 " They suspect that I have discovered their plans," I 
 cried joyfully. 
 
 "And have you — are you sure?" 
 
 " Only wait five minutes, uncle, and you shall see," I 
 cried. 
 
 We entered the works, fastened the gate after us, 
 and then, taking the end of my fishing-line as soon as 
 we reached the grinding-shop, I began to bind the two 
 meat-hooks one across the other. 
 
 "What, are you going to try for eels that way?" 
 said Uncle Bob laughing, as my uncles seemed to be 
 gradually making out what was to come. 
 
 " Well," I said, " they broke my other line." 
 
 By this time I had fastened the hooks pretty firmly, 
 and to the cross I now secured the end of the clothes- 
 line. 
 
 " Fine eel that. Cob," said Uncle Dick, hunting the 
 one I had caught into a corner, for it had been travel- 
 ling all over the place. 
 
 "Yes," I said; "and now the tackle's ready, throw 
 in and see if jon can't get another." 
 
 Uncle Dick went straight to the doorway, stepped 
 on to the platform, and threw in the hook, which 
 seemed to catch in something and gave way again. 
 
 "Come, I had a bite," he said laughing. "What has 
 been thrown in here — some bundles of wire or steel 
 rods?" 
 
 " Try again," I said laughing, and he had another 
 throw, this time getting tight hold of somethinof which 
 hung fast to the hooks, and came up dripping and 
 splashing to the little platform, where it was seized, 
 and Uncle Bob gave a shout of delight. 
 
 " Why, I never expected to catch that," cried Uncle 
 Dick. 
 
 " I thought it was some stolen rings of wire," said 
 Uncle Jack, as he seized hold, and together they 
 dragjred a great tangle of leather and catgut bands
 
 172 DRIVING AN EEL. 
 
 over the platform into the grinding-shop, fully half 
 falling back with a tremendous splash. 
 
 " Cob, you're a hero," cried Uncle Dick. 
 
 "The malicious scoundrels!" cried Uncle Jack. 
 
 " Throw in again," said Uncle Bob. 
 
 And then Uncle Dick fished and drao-ged and hauled 
 up tangle after tangle till there was quite a heap of 
 the dripping bands, with rivulets of water streaming 
 away over the stone floor, and right in the middle a 
 monster of an eel, the gentleman I had hooked, and 
 which had wound itself in and out of the catgut bands 
 till it was held tight by the mouth. 
 
 " He desei'ves to have his freedom," said Uncle Dick, 
 as he gave the bands a shake so that the hook came out 
 of the eel's mouth, and it began to writhe and twine 
 about the floor. 
 
 " And he shall have it," I cried, taking a walking- 
 stick, and for the next five minutes I was employed 
 trying to guide my prisoner to the doorway leading 
 into the pit. 
 
 I suppose you never tried to drive an eel? No? 
 Well, let me assure you that pig-driving is a pleasant 
 pastime in comparison. We have it on good authority 
 that if you want to drive a pig in a particular direc- 
 tion all you have to do is to point his nose straight 
 and then try to pull him back by the tail. Away he 
 goes directly. 
 
 Try and drive a big thick eel, two feet six inches 
 long, with a walking-.stick, and you'll find it a task 
 that needs an education fir.st. Put his head straight, 
 and he curves to right or left. Pull his tail, and he'll 
 turn round and bite you, and hold fast too. ]\Iine 
 turned round and bit, but it was the walking-stick he 
 seized with his strong jaw.s, and it wanted a good shake 
 to get it free. 
 
 Every way but the right would that eel squirm and 
 wriggle. I chased him round grind.stones, in and out
 
 THE BEST day's FISHING, 173 
 
 of water-troughs, from behind posts and planks, from 
 under benches, but I could not get him to the door; 
 and I firndy believe that night would have fallen with 
 me still hunting the slimy wriggling creature if Uncle 
 Bob had not seized it with his hands after throwing 
 his pocket-handkerchief over its back. 
 
 The next instant it was curled up in the silk, writhing 
 itself into a knot, no doubt in an agony of fear, if eels 
 can feel fear. Then it was held over the pit, the hand- 
 kerchief taken by one corner, and I expected to hear 
 it drop with a splash into the water; but no, it held on, 
 and though the handkercliief was shaken it was some 
 time before it would quit its hold of the silk, a good 
 piece of which was tight in its jaws. 
 
 At last: an echoing splash, and we turned back to 
 where my Uncles Jack and Dick were busy with the 
 bands. 
 
 " The best day's fishing I ever saw. Cob," cried Uncle 
 Jack. "It was stupid of us not to drag the pit or the 
 dam before." 
 
 " I don't know about stupid," said Uncle Bob. "You 
 see we thought the bands were stolen or destroyed. 
 We are learning fast, but we don't understand yet all 
 the pleasant ways of the Arrowfield men." 
 
 The rest of the day was spent over the tiresome job 
 of sorting out the different bands and hanging them 
 on their own special wheels to drain or dry ready for 
 use, and when this was done there was a feeling of 
 satisfaction in every breast, for it meant beginning 
 work again, and Uncle Bob said so. 
 
 "Yes," said Uncle Jack; "but also means a fresh 
 attempt to stop our work as soon as the scoundrels 
 know." 
 
 " Never mind," replied Uncle Dick. " It's a race to 
 see who will tire first: the right side or the wrong, and 
 I think I know." 
 
 " What's to be done next ? " said Uncle Bob.
 
 174 ANOTHER START. 
 
 " Let the men know that we are ready for them to 
 come back to work if they like to do so," said Uncle 
 Jack. 
 
 " Why not get fresh hands altogether ? " 
 
 " Because they would be just as great children as 
 those we have now. No; let us be manly and straight- 
 forward with them in everything. We shall fight for 
 our place, -but we will not be petty." 
 
 " But they will serve us some other scurvy trick," 
 said Uncle Bob. 
 
 "Let them," said Uncle Dick; "never mind. There," 
 he cried, "those bands will be fit to use to-morrow with 
 this clear dry air blowing through. Let's go home 
 now and have a quiet hour or two before we come to 
 watch." 
 
 "I wish," said Uncle Jack, "that the works joined 
 our house." 
 
 " Go on wishing," said Uncle Bob, "and they won't 
 join. Now, how about telling the men ? " 
 
 " Let s call and see Lunning and tell him to start 
 the fires," said Uncle Dick; and as we went back the 
 gate-keeper was spoken to, and the old man's face lit 
 up at the idea of the place being busy again. 
 
 " And I hope, gentlemen," he whispered from behind 
 his hand, "that you wall be let alone now." 
 
 "To which," said Uncle Bob as we walked on, "I 
 most devoutly say, Amen." 
 
 *iSiS^ 
 
 w 
 
 3-
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 I HAVE AN IDEA. 
 
 HE work was started the next morning, and 
 for a fortnight or so everything went on in 
 the smoothest manner possible. The men 
 were quite cheerful and good-tempered, 
 doing their tasks and taking their wages, and though 
 we kept our regular watch nothing disturbed us in the 
 slightest degree. 
 
 "An so you fun 'em in the wheel-pit, did you, Mester 
 Jacob?" said Gentles to me one dinner-hour as he sat 
 by his grindstone eating his bread and meat off a clean 
 napkin spread over his knees. 
 
 " Yes," I said, looking at him keenly. 
 
 " But how came you to find 'em, mester?" 
 
 I told him. 
 
 "Did you, now?" he cried, shutting his eyes and 
 grinning. "Think o' that! Why, I put you up to the 
 eels, and so I might say it was me as found the bands, 
 only you see it was not you nor yet me — it was the eel." 
 
 He nearly choked himself with laughing, but my 
 next words sobered him, and he sat up looking pain- 
 fully solemn and troubled of face. 
 
 "I'll be bound you know who threw those bands 
 into the water. Gentles," I said. 
 
 One of his eyes quivered, and he looked at me as if 
 he were going to speak. He even opened his mouth,
 
 17G "don't ask me, mester." 
 
 and I could see his tongue quivering as if ready to 
 begin, but he shut it with a snap and shook his head. 
 
 " Don't tell any stories about it," I said; "but you do 
 know." 
 
 " Don't ask me, mester," he cried with a groan. "Don't 
 ask me." 
 
 " Then you do know," I cried. 
 
 " I don't know nowt," he said in a hoarse whisper. 
 "Why, man alive, it wouldn't be safe for a chap like 
 me to know owt. They'd put a brick round my neck 
 and throw me in the watter." 
 
 " But you do know. Gentles," I persisted. 
 
 " I don't know nowt, I tell 'ee," he cried angrily. 
 " Such friends as we've been, Mester Jacob, and you to 
 want to get me into a scrarp." 
 
 " Why, Gentles!" I cried. "If you know, why don't 
 you speak out like a man? " 
 
 " 'Cause I'm a man o' peace, Mester Jacob, and don't 
 want to harm nobody, and I don't want nobody to 
 harm me. Nay, I know nowt at all." 
 
 " Well, I think you are a contemptible coward, 
 Gentles," I said warmly. "You're taking my uncles' 
 money and working on their premises, and though 
 you know who has been base enough to injure them 
 you are not man enough to speak." 
 
 "Now don't — don't — don't, my lad," he cried in a 
 hoarse whisper. "Such friends as we've been too, and 
 you go on like that. I tell 'ee I'm a man of peace, and 
 I don't know nowt at all. On'y give me my grinstone 
 and something to grind — that's all I want." 
 
 "And to see our place blown up and the bands des- 
 troyed. There, I'm ashamed of you, Gentles," I cried. 
 
 "But you'll be friends?" he said; and there were 
 tears in his eyes. 
 
 "Friends! How can I be friends," I cried, "with a 
 man like you?" 
 
 " Oh dear, oh dear! " I heard him groan as I left the
 
 I VISIT PANNELL. 177 
 
 workshop; and going to Piter's kennel I took off his 
 collar and led hira down to the dam to give him a 
 swim. 
 
 He was a capital dog for the water, and thoroughly 
 enjoyed a splash, so that before the men came back he 
 had had a swim, shaken himself, and was stretched out 
 in the sunshine under the wall drying himself, when, 
 as I stooped to pat him, I noticed something about the 
 wall that made me look higher in a hurried way, and 
 then at the top, and turn oft' directly. 
 
 I had seen enough, and I did not want to be noticed, 
 for some of the men were beQ-inning to come back, so 
 stooping down I patted Piter and went off to the office. 
 
 As soon as the men were well at work I went into 
 one of the sheds, where there were two or three holes 
 under the benches where the rats came up from the 
 dam, and where it was the custom to set a trap or two, 
 which very rarely snared one of the busy little 
 animals, though now and then we did have that luck, 
 and Piter had the pleasure of killing the mischievous 
 creature if the trap had not thoroughly done its work. 
 
 I soon found what I wanted — an old rusty spring- 
 trap with its sharp teeth, and, shaking off the dust, I 
 tucked it under my jacket and strolled off to the 
 smith's shops, where I found Pannell hammering away 
 as hard as ever he could. 
 
 He was making reaping-hooks of my uncles' patent 
 steel, and as I stood at the door and watched him 1 
 counted the blows he gave, and it was astonishing how 
 regular he was, every implement taking nearly the 
 same number of blows before he threw it down. 
 
 " Well, Pannell," I said, "arn't you sorry to have to 
 work so hard ao^ain ? " 
 
 He whisked a piece of hot steel from his forge and 
 just glanced at me as he went on with his work, laying 
 the glowing sparkling steel upon the anvil. 
 
 " Sorry!" — hang — "no" — hang — "not a" — hing, hang, 
 
 (322) Al
 
 178 "it's a feight!" 
 
 hang — "not a" — hang, hang, hing, hang, hang — "bit of 
 it. 
 
 Tliat was how it sounded to me as he worked away. 
 
 " Wife " — bang — " bairns " — hing, hang, hang, hing, 
 danger, chinger, hing, hang — "eight" — hang — "of 
 'em. I hate" — haiig — "to do" — hang — "nowt" — hang 
 — " but " — hang — " smoke all " — hang — " day." 
 
 "I say, Pannell," I said, after glancing round and 
 seeing that we were quite alone, "how came you to 
 thi'ow our bands in the wheel-pit?" 
 
 " What!" he cried, pincers in one hand, hammer in 
 the other; and he looked as if he were going to seize 
 me with one tool and beat me with the other, " Yah ! 
 Get out, you young joker! You know it warn't me." 
 
 " But you know who did it." 
 
 Pannell looked about him, through the window, out 
 of the door, up the forge chimney, and then he gave 
 me a solemn wink. 
 
 "Then why don't you speak?" 
 
 The big smith took a blade of steel from the fire as 
 if it were a flaming sword, and beat it into the reap- 
 ing-hook of peace before he said in a hoarse whisper: 
 
 " Men's o' one side, lad — unions. Mesters is t'other 
 side. It's a feight." 
 
 " But it's so cowardly, Pannell," I said. 
 
 "Ay, lad, it is," he cried, banging away. "But I 
 can't help it. Union says strike, and yovi hev to strike 
 whether j-ou like it or whether you don't like it, and 
 clem till it's over." 
 
 " But it's such a cowardly way of making war, to do 
 what you men do." 
 
 " What they men do, lad," he whispered. 
 
 " What you men do," I repeated. 
 
 " Nay, they men," he whispered. 
 
 " You are one of them, and on their side, so what 
 they do you do." 
 
 ' Is that so?" he said, giving a piece of steel such a
 
 THE TRADE. 179 
 
 hard bang that he had to repeat it to get it into 
 shape. 
 
 " Of course it is." 
 
 " Well, I s'pose you're right, lad," he said, thought- 
 fully. 
 
 " Why don't you tell me, then, who threw the bands 
 in the wheel-pit, so that he could be discharged?" 
 
 "Me! Me tell! ^'ay. Look at that now." 
 
 That was a piece of steel spoiled by the vehemence 
 of his blows, and it was thrust back into the fire, 
 
 " I will not say who gave me the information," I 
 said. 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " Nobody shall ever know that you told me." 
 
 He took a little hook he was forging and made a 
 motion with it as if I were a stalk of wheat and he 
 wanted to draw me to him. 
 
 " Lad," he said, " man who tells on his mate aren't a 
 man no lono^er. I am a man." 
 
 We stood looking at each other for some time, and 
 then he said in his rough way: 
 
 " It aren't no doing o' mine, lad, and I don't like it. 
 It aren't manly. One o' the mesters did owt to me as 
 I didn't like I'd go up to him and ask him to tek off 
 his coat like a man and f eight it out, or else I'd go 
 away; but man can't do as he likes i' Arrowfield. He 
 has to do what trade likes." 
 
 " And it was the trade who threw our bands away, 
 and tried to blow us up, and half-poisoned me and 
 Piter." 
 
 " Hah!" he said with a sigh. " That's it, lad." 
 
 " Ah, well, I didn't expect you'd tell me, Pannell," I 
 said, smiling. 
 
 "You see I can't, my lad. Now can I?" 
 
 " No; it wouldn't be honourable. But I say, Pannell, 
 I mean to do all I can to find out who plays us these 
 dirty tricks."
 
 180 A DECENT CHAP. 
 
 The big smith looked about him before speaking 
 
 again. 
 
 "Don't, my lad," he whispered. "Yow might get 
 hurt, and I shouldn't like that i'deed." 
 
 "Oh, I won't get hurt!" I said. "Look here, Pannell, 
 do you see this?" 
 
 "Ay, lad. Trap for the rats. I've sin scores on 
 
 em." 
 
 " We set them to catch the rats," I said, hesitating 
 a moment or two before making my venture. " I say, 
 Pannell," 1 said, " we're very good friends you and I." 
 "Course we are, lad; for a Londoner you're quite a 
 decent chap." 
 
 " Thank you," I said, smiling. " Well, on the quiet, 
 I want you to do me a favour." 
 
 " Long as it aren't to tell on my mates, lad, I'll do 
 owt for you. There!" 
 
 That there was as emphatic as a blow from his 
 hammer on the anvil. 
 
 " I thought you would, Pannell," I said. " Well, 
 look here. My uncles are as good and kind-hearted 
 men as ever lived." 
 
 "And as nyste to work for as ever was," said Pan- 
 nell, giving an emphatic bang on his work as he 
 hammered away. 
 
 " Well, I'm very fond of them," I said. 
 " Nat'i-ally, lad, nat' rally." 
 
 " And as I know they're trying to do their best for 
 everybody who works for thein, as well as for them- 
 selves, so as to find bread for all " 
 
 I stopped just then, for the big smith's face was very 
 red, and he was making a tremendous clangour with 
 his hammer. 
 
 " Well," I said, "it worries me very much to see that 
 every now and then a big rat gets to their sack of 
 wheat and gnaws a hole in it and lets the grain run
 
 THE QUESTION OF A TRAP. 181 
 
 "Whei'e do they keep their wheat?" said Pannell, 
 lea vino; off' for awhile. 
 
 " Here," I said. 
 
 "Ah! there's part rats about these here rezzy- 
 wors," he said, thoughtfully. " Why don't you set that 
 trap?" 
 
 "tJecause it isn't half big enough — not a quar- 
 ter big enough," I said; "but I wish to catch that 
 rat, and I want } ou to make me a big trap like this, 
 only four times as large, and with a very strong- 
 spring." 
 
 "Eh?" 
 
 " I want to set that trap, and I want to catch that 
 great cowardlv rat, and I want you to make me a ti-ap 
 that will hold" him." 
 
 "Eh?" 
 
 "Don't you understand?" I said, looking at him 
 meaningly as he stood wiping the perspiration from 
 his brow with the back of his hand. 
 
 "Yow want to set a trap to catch the big rat as 
 comes and makes a hole in the mester's sack." 
 
 " Yes," I said. " I want to catch him." 
 
 "What! here about the works?" 
 
 "Yes," I said. " Now do you see?" 
 
 Poof! 
 
 Pannell gave vent to a most curious sound that was 
 like nothincr so much as one that mioht have been 
 emitted if his forge bellows had suddenly burst. To 
 give vent to that sound he opened his mouth wide, 
 clapped his hands on his leather apron, and bent nearly 
 double. 
 
 "Why, Pannell!" I exclaimed. 
 
 Poof! He stamped first one leg on the black iron 
 dust and ashes, and then the other, going round his 
 anvil and grumbling and rumbling internally in the 
 most extraordinary^ manner. 
 
 Then he looked me in the face and exploded once
 
 182 PANNELL LAUGHS. 
 
 more, till his mirth and the absurdity of his antics 
 grew infectious, and I laughed too. 
 
 " And you're going to set a big trap to catch that 
 there" — poof- — "that theer very big rat, eh?" 
 
 " Yes," I said, " if I can." 
 
 "And you want me," he whispered, with his eyes 
 starting with suppressed mirth, " to make you that 
 theer big trap." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Then I'll do it," he whispered, becoming preter- 
 naturally solemn. "Stop! 'Tween man an' man you 
 know." 
 
 He held out his great black hard hand, which I 
 grasped. 
 
 " On my honour, Pannell, I'll never tell a soul that 
 you made the trap, not for ten years, or twenty, if you 
 like." 
 
 " That's enough," he said, giving his leg a slap. 
 " Haw, haw, haw, haw, haw! Here, give us the model. 
 When dyer want it, ladT' 
 
 " As soon as ever you can get it made, Pannell." 
 
 He looked at me with his face working, and scraping 
 a hole in the ashes he buried the trap, seized hammer 
 and pincers, and worked away again, but stopped every 
 now and then to laugh. 
 
 " 1 say," he said suddenly, " it'll sarve 'em right; but 
 if they knowed as I did it they'd wait for me coming 
 home and give me the knobsticks. Ay, that they 
 would." 
 
 " But they will not know, Pannell," I said. " It's 
 our secret, mind." 
 
 "Hey, but I'd like to see the rat i' the trap!" he 
 whispered, after exploding with another lit of mirth. 
 
 " Let's have the trap iirst," I said. " I don't know 
 that I shall catch him then." 
 
 " What are you going to bait with ?" he said between 
 two fierce attacks upon a piece of steel.
 
 HOW TO BAIT IT. 183 
 
 "Oh, T have not settled that yet!" 
 
 " I'll tell ee," he whispered with his face working. 
 " Bait it with a wheel-band." 
 
 He roared with laughter again, and if I had had any 
 doubts before of his understanding that I wanted a 
 very strong man-trap, I had none now. 

 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 SOMETHING FOR ME. 
 
 ASH — cruel — unwise. Well, I'm afraid it 
 was all those, but I was only a Loy, and I 
 was stung by the injustice and cowardly 
 cruelty of the outrages perpetrated on us by 
 the men who earned their bread in our works; and 
 hence it was, that, instead of feeling any compunction 
 in doing what I proposed, I was delighted with the 
 idea, and longed for an oj)portunity to put it in force. 
 
 I was, then, very eager to begin, for the present calm, 
 I felt sure, was only going before the storm, and after 
 what I had found out I was anxious to be ready. 
 
 Pannell did not keep me waiting long. 
 
 Two days after I had made my plans with him I 
 went into his smithy, and in answer to my inquiring 
 look he said, in a heavy, unmoved way. 
 
 " Theer's summut for you hung up i' the forge 
 chimney. She goes hard, but theer's a steel Vjar 'long 
 wi' her as you can prise down the spring till she's set. 
 On'y mind thysen, lad — mind thysen." 
 
 "And will it hold a man, Pannell?" I cried. 
 
 " Ay; this here's noo pattern. I haven't got into it 
 yet. I've got a rare lot of 'em to do." 
 
 "But tell me," I whispered, "will it?" 
 
 " Think this here noo steel's better than owd fashion 
 stoof ?" he said.
 
 "GOOD LUCK TO TIIEE!" 185 
 
 "Bother the steel!" I said, speaking lower still. "I 
 want you to tell me whether — " 
 
 " Bull-poop's gettin' too fat, Mester Jacob," said 
 Pannell. " Don't give 'im so much meat. Spoils a 
 dorg. Give un bones as he can break oop and yeat. 
 That's the stoof for dorofs. Gives un such a coat as 
 never was." 
 
 " Will you tell me?" I began, angrily. 
 
 " Nay, I wean't tell thee nowt," he growled. " I've 
 telled thee enew as it is. Tek it when I'm not here, 
 and good luck to thee!" 
 
 I could get no more from him, for he would not say 
 another word about the trap, so I waited impatiently 
 for the nio-ht so that I mig-ht smuo'o-le it from the foro^e 
 chimney into my desk. 
 
 When the time came it was quite absurd how many 
 hindrances there were to my little task. I did not 
 v/ant to set it that night. I only wanted to get it in 
 safety to my desk; but first there were men hanging 
 about the smithies as if they were watching me; then 
 there were my uncles; and lastly, there was Gentles, 
 who made signs that he wished to speak to me, and I 
 didn't care to say anything to the sleek, oily fellow, 
 who only wanted to what he called make it up. 
 
 At last, though, everyone had gone but Uncle Jack, 
 who was busy writing a letter or two, and I was to 
 wait for him, and we were goino- back too'ether. 
 
 I slipped off to the smithy, and just as I was half- 
 way there I turned quickly round, feeling quite cold, 
 and as if I was found out, for I heard a curious yawn- 
 ing noise behind me. 
 
 It was only Piter, who looked up in my face and 
 gave his tail a wag, and then butted his great head 
 against my leg, holding it tightly there as if it was so 
 heavy that he was glad to give it a rest. 
 
 I went on at once impatiently, and Piter's head sank 
 down, the dog uttering a low, discontented whine on
 
 186 pannell's production. 
 
 being left. I glanced up at the wall, half expecting to 
 see some one looking over and watching me; then up at 
 the windows, fearing that one of the men might still be 
 left. 
 
 But all was perfectly quiet, and though I half antici- 
 pated such an accident there was no one seated on the 
 top of either of the great chimney-shafts in the neigh- 
 bourhood watching me with a telescope. 
 
 I had a few more absurdly impossible ideas of this 
 kind as I went along the yard, feeling horribly guilty 
 and ready to give up my undertaking. The very 
 silence and solitariness of the place startled me, but I 
 went on and turned in at the open door of the smithy 
 where Panncll worked, and breathed more freely as I 
 looked round and saw that I was alone. 
 
 But to make sure I stepped up on to the work-bench 
 and looked out of the window, but there was nothing 
 but the dam to be seen there, and I leaped down and 
 climbed on to the for^'e, with the coal-dust crushinsf 
 under my feet, gave a last glance round, and was about 
 to peer up the funnel-like, sheet-iron chimney, when 
 there was a loud clang, and I bounded down, with my 
 heart beating furiously. 
 
 I stamped my foot directly after and bit my lips 
 angrily because I had been such a coward, for I had 
 moved a pair of smiths' tongs when I stepped up, and 
 they had slid otK on to the ground. 
 
 " I'm doing what I ought not to do," I said to my- 
 self as I jumped on to the forge again, " but now I've 
 gone so far I must go on." 
 
 I peered up in the dark funnel and could see nothing, 
 but I had come prepared, and striking a match I saw 
 just before me, resting on a sooty ledge, the object of 
 my quest. 
 
 I lifted it down, astounded at its size and weight, 
 and found that it was an exact imitation of the rat- 
 trap, but with blunt teeth, and a short steel lever with
 
 I SHUT IT UP. 187 
 
 a point like a crowbar was attached to it by means of 
 a bit of wire. 
 
 It was enormous, and I quite trembled at the idea of 
 carrying it to the office; but after a sharp glance out of 
 the doorway I took hold of the trap by the iron chain 
 bound round it, and walked quickly to my own place, 
 lioping that even if I had been seen, the watcher would 
 not have been able to make out what I was carrying. 
 
 There was not much room to spare when I had laid 
 the great trap in my desk, the lid of which would only 
 just shut down over it; but once safely there, and with 
 the key in the lock ready for me to turn if I heard 
 steps, I had a good look at my treasure. 
 
 I was nervous now, and half repentant, for the instru- 
 ment looked so formidable that I felt that I should not 
 dare to use it. 
 
 I had a good look though, and found that it was 
 very complete with chain and ring, and that the lever 
 had a head to it like a pin, evidently so that after it 
 had been used, it could be placed through the ring at 
 the end of the chain, and driven down to act as a peg 
 in the ground. 
 
 I had hardly arrived at all this when I heard Uncle 
 Jack's cough, and hastily closing the desk and locking 
 •it, I went to meet him. 
 
 " Sorry to keep you waiting so long, my boy," he 
 said ; " but I wanted to send word to your father how 
 we are going on." 
 
 It was on the second night that I put my plan into 
 practice. 
 
 I had thought it all well out, and inspected my 
 ground, which was just below the wall, pretty close to 
 the edge of the dam, where I had seen some marks 
 which had made me suspicious. 
 
 So as soon as Uncle Bob had gone to lie down, and 
 I had begun my half of the watch, I fastened up Piter, 
 took out my heavy trap, carried it down to the edge
 
 188 I SET THE TRAP. 
 
 of the dam, and carefully felt the wall for the place 1 
 had marked by drivinsf in a little nail. 
 
 I soon found it, placed my trap exactly beneath it, 
 and wrenching down the spring by means of the lever, 
 I tried to set it, 
 
 I bad practised doing this in my own place, and 
 could manage it pretty well, but in the darkness and 
 excitement that troubled me now, it proved to be an 
 exceedingly difficult job. Twice I managed to get it 
 set, and was moving away when it went off with a 
 startling clang that made me jump, and expect to see 
 Uncle Bob come running out, especially as the dog set 
 up a furious bark. 
 
 I quieted Piter though each time, and went and tried 
 again till I managed my task, having to take great 
 care that I did not hoist myself with my own petard, 
 for it was a terribly dangerous engine that I was setting, 
 though I did not think so then. 
 
 It was now set to my satisfaction, and being quite 
 prepared with a big hannner, my next task was to 
 drive in the lever like a peg right through the ring 
 and up to the head, so that if I did catch my bird, 
 there would be no chance of his getting away. 
 
 I felt about in the dark for a suitable place, and tlie 
 most likely seemed to be just at the extent of the five 
 feet of chain, which reached to the edge of the dam, 
 where, between two of the big stones of the embank- 
 ment, I fancied I could drive in the lever so that it 
 could not be drawn out. 
 
 So taking the steel bar with the sharp edge I ran it 
 through the ring, directed the point between two blocks 
 of stone, and then began to drive. 
 
 As 1 said I was well prepared, having carefully 
 thought out the whole affair, and I had bound several 
 thicknesses of cloth over the head of the hammer like 
 a pad so as to muitie the blows, and thus it was that 
 I was able to drive it home without much noise.
 
 THE NEXT MORNING. 189 
 
 At first it went in so easily that I was about to select 
 a fresh place, but it soon became harder and firmer, 
 and when I had done and felt the head it was quite 
 immovable, and held the ring close down to the stones. 
 
 My idea had been to cover the trap with a handful 
 or two of hay, but it was so dark that I thought I 
 w^ould leave it, as it was impossible to see it even from 
 where I looked. I left it, meaninsf to come the next 
 mornmg and set it free wdth a file, for I did not want to 
 take up the |)eg, and I could get another for lever and 
 join the chain with a strong padlock the next time. 
 
 It was about eleven o'clock when I had finished my 
 task, and I did not know whether to be pleased or 
 alarmed. I felt something like a boy might who had 
 set a bait at the end of a line to catch a crocodile, and 
 was then very much alarmed for fear he should have 
 any luck. 
 
 I crept away and waited, thinking a great deal 
 about Piter, and what would be the consequences if he 
 walked over the trap, but I argued that the chances 
 were a hundred thousand to one against his ofoing to 
 that particular spot. Besides, if I left him chained up 
 Uncle Bob was not likely to unloose him, so I deter- 
 mined to run the risk, and leave the trap set when I 
 went off guard. 
 
 The time went slowly b ,' without any alarm, and 
 though I went now and then cautiously in the direction 
 of my trap it had not been disturbed, and I came aw^ay 
 more and more confident that it was in so out of the 
 way a part of the yard that it might be there for weeks 
 unseen. 
 
 I felt better after this, and at the appointed time 
 called Uncle Bob, who took his watch, and when he 
 called me in the morning the wheel was turning, and 
 the men were coming up to their work. 
 
 " I thought you were tired, Cob, so I let you lie till 
 the last moment."
 
 190 I FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE. 
 
 I was so stupid and confused with sleep that I got 
 up yawning; and we were half-way back home be- 
 fore, like a Hash, there came to me the recollection of 
 my trap. 
 
 I could not make an excuse and go back, though I 
 tried hard to invent one; but went on by my uncle's 
 side so quiet and thoughtful that he made a remark. 
 
 " Bit done up, Cob! You ought to have another nap 
 after dinner." 
 
 " Oh, I'm all right, uncle," I said, and I went on home 
 with him to have steel-traps for breakfast and think 
 of nothing else save what they had caught. 
 
 For I felt perfectly sure that someone had come 
 over the wall in the night — Stevens I expected it 
 would prove to be— and had put his foot right in the 
 trap, which had sprung, caught him by the leg, and 
 cut it right off, and I felt sure that when I got back I 
 should hnd him lying there where he had bled to 
 death. 
 
 The next thing that struck me was that I was a 
 nmrderer, and that I should be tried and condemned 
 to death, but respited and sentenced to transportation 
 for life on account of my youth. 
 
 With such thoughts as these rushing through my 
 brain it was not likely that I should enjoy the break- 
 fast with the brown and pink ham so nicely fried, and 
 the eggs that were so creamy white, and with such 
 yolks of gold. 
 
 I did iKjt enjoy that breakfast, and I was feverishly 
 anxious to get back to the works, and though first 
 one and then another advised me to go and lie down, 
 I insisted upon going. 
 
 I was all in a tremble as I reached the gate, and saw 
 old Dunning's serious face. I read in it reproach, and 
 he seemed to be saying to me, " Oh, how could you do 
 it?" Seemed, for what he did say was, "Nice pleasant 
 morning, Mester Jacob!"
 
 WHAT LUCKI 191 
 
 I told a story, for I said, " Yes, it is," when it was to 
 me the most painful and miserable morning I had ever 
 experienced; but I dared not say a word, and for some 
 time I could not lind an opportunity for going down 
 the yard. 
 
 Nobody ever did go down there, unless it was to 
 wheel a worn-out grindstone to a resting-place or to 
 carry some broken woodwork of the machinery to 
 throw in a heap. There was the heap of coal and the 
 heap of slack or coal-dust, both in the yard; but those 
 who fetched the coal and slack fetched them from this 
 side, and they never went on the other. 
 
 The last time I could recall the men going down 
 there to the dam, was when we threw in Piter to give 
 him a bath. 
 
 Piter! Had he been let loose? The thought that had 
 come of him was startling, but easily set right, for there 
 was the bull-dog fast asleep in his kennel. 
 
 Then there was Stevens! 
 
 The thouoht was horrible. He ought to be in the 
 grinding shop, and if he were not — I knew ! 
 
 It would have been easy to go and look, but I felt 
 that I could not, and I walked back to the gate and 
 spoke to old Dunning. 
 
 "All the men come yet?" I said. 
 
 "No, Mester Jacob, they hevn't all come yet," he said. 
 
 I dare not ask any more. All had not come, and one 
 of those who had not come was, of course, Stevens, and 
 he was lying there dead. 
 
 I walked back with Cunning's last words ringing in 
 my ears. 
 
 "Ain't you well, Mester Jacob?" 
 
 No, I was not well. I felt sick and miserable, and I 
 would have given anything to have gone straight down 
 the yard and seen the extent of the misery I had caused. 
 
 Oh! if I could have recalled the past, and undone 
 everything; but that was impossible, and in a state of
 
 192 IS IT STEVENS? 
 
 feverish anxiety I went upstairs to where the men 
 were busy at hithe and dry grindstones, to try and get 
 a glimpse of my trap, as I hoped I could from one of 
 the windows. 
 
 To my horror there were two men looking out, and 
 I stopped dumbfoundered as I listened for their words, 
 which I knew must be about the trapped man lying- 
 there. 
 
 "Nay, lad," said one, "yow could buy better than they 
 at pit's mouth for eight shillings a chaldron." 
 
 Oh, what a relief ! It was like life to me, and going to 
 one window I found that they could only see the heap 
 of coals. 
 
 From the other windows there was no better view. 
 Even from the room over the water-wheel there was 
 no chance of a glimpse of the trap. 
 
 I could not stop up there, for I was all of a fret, and 
 at last, screwing up my nerves to the sticking point, I 
 went down determined to go boldly into the grinder's 
 shop, and see if Stevens was there. 
 
 What an effort it was! I have often wondered since 
 whether other boys would have suffered what I did 
 under the circumstances, or whether I was a very great 
 coward. 
 
 Well, coward or no, I at last went straight into the 
 grinder's shop, and there was the plashing rumble of 
 the great water-wheel beyond the door, the rattle of 
 the bands and the whirr and whirl and screech of the 
 grindstones as they spun round, and steel in some form 
 or other was lield to their edge. 
 
 There were half a dozen faces I knew, and there was 
 Gentles ready to smile at me with his great mouth and 
 closed eyes. 
 
 But I could only just glance at him and nod, for to 
 my horror Stevens' wheel was not going, and there 
 was no one there. 
 
 I felt the cold sweat gather all over my face, and a
 
 no! 193 
 
 horrible sensation of dread assailed me; and then I 
 turned and hurried out of the buildino-, so that my 
 ghastly face and its changes should not be seen. 
 
 For just then I saw Stevens rise up from behind his 
 grindstone with an oil-can in his hand — he had been 
 busy oiling some part or other of the bearings. 
 
 (322)
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 MY TRAVELLING COMPANION. 
 
 OMEHOW or another I could not get to that 
 trap all that day, and night came, and still 
 I could not get to it. 
 
 I tried, but unless I had wanted to draw 
 people's attention to the fact that I had something 
 there of great interest, I could not go. 
 
 Even at lea\ing time it was as bad, and I found 
 myself in the position that 1 must either tell one of my 
 uncles what I had done, or leave the trap to take its 
 chance. 
 
 I chose the latter 
 coward, went home, 
 
 plan, and calling myself weak 
 arguing to myself that no one 
 would go in the spot where I had placed the trap, but 
 some miscreant, and that it would serve him right. 
 
 To my utter astonishment, directly after tea Uncle 
 Dick turned to me. 
 
 "Cob," he said; "we have a special letter to send to 
 Canonbury to your father, and a more particular one 
 to bring back in answer, so we have decided tliat you 
 shall take it up. You can have three or four days' 
 holiday, and it will be a pleasant change. Your mother 
 and father will be delighted to see you, and, of course, 
 you will be glad to see them." 
 
 "But when should I have to go?" I said. 
 
 "To-night by the last train. Quarter to eleven
 
 LONDON, ho! 195 
 
 — You'll get to London about three in the morning. 
 They expect one of us, so you will tiud tlieiu up." 
 
 "But—" 
 
 "Don't you want to go?" said Uncle Jack severely. 
 
 "Yes," I said; "but—" 
 
 "But nie no buts, as the man said in the old play. 
 There, get ready, boy, and come back to us as soon as 
 you can. Don't make the worst of our troubles here. 
 Cob." 
 
 "No, no," said Uncle Dick, because we are getting on 
 famously as soon as we can manage the men." 
 
 "And that we are going to do," said Uncle Bob. 
 " I say I wish I were coming with you." 
 
 "Do, then," I cried. 
 
 " Get out, you young tempter ! No," said Uncle 
 Bob. "Go and take your pleasure, and have pity upon 
 the three poor fellows who are toiling here." 
 
 I was obliged to go, of course, but I must tell them 
 about the trap lirst. 
 
 Tell them! No, I could not tell Uncle Dick or Uncle 
 Jack. I was afraid that they would be angry with me, 
 so I resolved to speak to Uncle Bob before I went — to 
 take him fully into my confidence, and ask him to move 
 the trap and put it safely away. 
 
 It is so easy to make plans — so hard to carry them 
 out. 
 
 All through that evening I could not once get a 
 chance to speak to Uncle Bob alone; and time w^ent so 
 fast that we were on our way to the station, and still 
 I had not spoken. There w^as only the chance left — 
 on the platform. 
 
 " Don't look so solid about it, Cob," said Uncle Jack. 
 "They'll be delighted to see you, boy, and it will be a 
 pleasant trip. But we want you back." 
 
 "I shoulcl think w^e do," said Uncle Dick, laying his 
 great hand on my shoulder and giving me an atfec- 
 tionate grip.
 
 196 MY LAST WORDS. 
 
 "Yes, we couldn't get on without our first lieutenant, 
 Philosopher Cob," said Uncle Bob. 
 
 I tried to look bright and cheerful; but that trap 
 had not got me by the leg — it seemed to be round my 
 neck and to choke me from speaking. 
 
 What was 1 to do? I could not get a chance. I 
 dare not go away and leave that trap there without 
 speaking, and already there was the distant rumble of 
 the coming train. In a few minutes I should be on 
 my way to London; and at last in despair I got close 
 to Uncle Bob to speak, but in vain — I was put off. 
 
 In came the train, drawing up to the side of the 
 platform, and Uncle Bob ran off to find a comfortable 
 compartment for me, looking after me as kindly as if 
 I had been a woman. 
 
 "Oh," I thought, "if he would but have stayed!" 
 
 "Good-bye, my lad!" said Uncle Dick. 
 
 " Take care of yourself, Cob, and of the packet," 
 whispered Uncle Jack. 
 
 I was about to slap my breast and say, "All right 
 here!" but he caught my hand and held it down. 
 
 " Don't," he said in a low half-angry voice. " Dis- 
 cretion, boy. If you have something valuable about 
 you, don't show people where it is." 
 
 I saw the wisdom of the rebuke and shook hands. 
 
 " I'll try and be wiser," I whispered ; " trust me." 
 
 He nodded, and this made me forget the trap for 
 the moment. But Uncle Bob grasped my hand and 
 brouffht it back. 
 
 " Stand away, please," shouted the guard; but Uncle 
 Bob held on by my hand as the train moved. 
 
 " Take care of yourself, lad. Call a cab the moment 
 you reach the platform if your father is not there." 
 
 "Yes," I said, reaching over a fellow-passenger to 
 speak. " Uncle Bob," I added quickly, " big trap in 
 the corner of the yard; take it up at once — to- 
 night."
 
 THE KEEN-LOOKING MAN. 197 
 
 "Yes, yes," he said as he ran along the platform. 
 "I'll see to it. Good-bye!" 
 
 We were otf and he was waving his hand to me, and 
 I saw him for a few moments, and then all was indis- 
 tinct beneath the station lamps, and we were gliding 
 on, with the glare and smoke and glow of the busy 
 town lighting up the sky. 
 
 It had all come to me so suddenly that I could hardly 
 believe I was speeding away back to London; but once 
 more comfortable in my mind with the promise that 
 Uncle Bob had made to take up the trap, I sat back 
 in the comfortable corner seat thinking of seeing my 
 father and mother again, and of what a series of ad- 
 ventures I should have to relate. 
 
 Then I had a look round at my fellow-passengers, of 
 whom there were three — a stout old gentleman and a 
 young lady who seemed to be his daughter, and a dark- 
 eyed keen-looking man who was seated opposite to 
 me, and who held a newspaper in his hand and had a 
 couple of books with him. 
 
 " I'd offer to lend you one," he said, touching his 
 books and smiling; "but you couldn't read — I can't. 
 Horrible lights." 
 
 Just then a heavy snore from the old gentleman 
 made the young lady lean over to him and touch him, 
 waking him up with a start. 
 
 The keen-looking man opposite to me raised his 
 eyebrows and smiled slightly, shading his face from 
 the other occupants with his newspaper. 
 
 Three or four times over the old gentleman dropped 
 asleep and had to be roused up, and my fellow-passen- 
 ger smiled good-humouredly and said: 
 
 " Might as well have let him sleep." 
 
 This was in a whisper, and he made two or three 
 remarks to me. 
 
 He seemed very much disposed to be friendly and 
 pointed out the lights of a distant town or two.
 
 198 MY FELLOW-PASSENGER IS FRIENDLY. 
 
 " Got in at Arrowfield, didn't you?" he said at last. 
 
 I re])lied that I did; and it was on the tip of my 
 tongue to say, " So did you," but I did not. 
 
 " I'm going on to London," he said. " Nasty time to 
 get in — three in the morning. I hate it. No one 
 about. Night cabs and milk carts, police and market 
 wagons. People at the hotel always sleepy. Ah! here 
 we are at Westernbow." 
 
 For the train was stopping, and when it did draw 
 up at the platform the old gentleman was roused up 
 by the young lady, and they got out and left us alone. 
 
 "Ha! ha!" said my companion, "that's better. Give 
 us room to stretch our legs. Do you bet?" 
 
 " No," I said, " never." 
 
 "Good, lad! Don't; very bad habit. I do; I've lots 
 of bad habits. But I was going to say, I'll bet you an 
 even half-crown that we don't have another passenger 
 from here to London." 
 
 " I hope we shall not," I said as I thought of a nap 
 on the seat. 
 
 " So do I, sir — so do I," he said, nodding his head 
 quickly. " I vote we lie down and make the best of it 
 — by and by. Have a cigar first?" 
 
 "Thank you; I don't smoke," I said. 
 
 "I do. Will you excuse me if I have a cigar? Not 
 a smoking carriage — more comfortable." 
 
 I as.sured him that I should not mind; and he took 
 out a cigar, lit it, and began to smoke. 
 
 " Better have one," he said. " Mild as mild. They 
 won't hurt you." 
 
 I thanked him again and declined, sitting back and 
 watching him as he smoked on seeming to enjoy his 
 cigar, and made a remark or two about the beautiful 
 night and the stars as the train dashed on. 
 
 After a time he took out a flask, slipped off the plated 
 cup at the bottom, and unscrewed the top, pouring out 
 afterward some clear-looking liquid.
 
 I REFUSE TO DRINK. 199 
 
 "Have a drink?" he said, offering me the flask-cup; 
 but I shook my head. 
 
 " No, thank you," I said; and somehow I began 
 thinking of the water I had drunk at the works, and 
 which had made me so terribly sleepy. 
 
 I don't know how it was, but I did think about that, 
 and it was in my mind as he said laughingly: 
 
 "What! not drink a little drop of mild stuff" like 
 that? Well, you are a fellow! Why it's like milk." 
 
 He seemed to toss it off! 
 
 " Better have a drop," he said. 
 
 I declined. 
 
 " Nonsense ! Do," he cried. " Do you good. Come, 
 have a drink." 
 
 He grew more persistent, but the more persistent he 
 was the more I shrank from the cup he held in his 
 hand; and at last I felt sorry, for he seemed so kind 
 that it was ungracious of me to refuse him so simple 
 a request. 
 
 "Oh, very well!" he said, "just as you like. There 
 will be the more for me." 
 
 He laughed, nodded, and drank the contents of the 
 cup before putting the screw-top on the ffask, thrust- 
 ing it in his breast-pocket, and then making a cushion 
 of his railway wrapper he lay at full length upon the 
 cushion, and seemed to compose himself to sleep. 
 
 It was such a good example that, after a few minutes' 
 silence, I did the same, and lay with my eyes half closed, 
 listeninof to the dull rattle of the train, and thinking 
 of the works at Arrowffeld, and what a good job it was 
 that I spoke to Uncle Bob about the trap. 
 
 Then I hoped he would not be incautious and hurt 
 himself in letting off" the spring. 
 
 I looked across at my fellow-traveller, who seemed 
 to be sleeping soundly, and the sight of his closed eyes 
 made mine heavy, and no wonder, for every other 
 night 1 had been on guard at the works, and that
 
 200 A HORRIBLE AWAKENING. 
 
 seemed to shorten my allowance of sleep to a terrible 
 degree. 
 
 I knew there could be no mistake, for I was going 
 as far as the ti-ain went, and the guard would be sure 
 to wake me up if I was fast asleep. 
 
 And how satisfactory it seemed to be lying there on 
 the soft cushions instead of walking about the works 
 and the yard the previous night. I was growing more 
 and more sleepy, the motion of the train serving to 
 lull me; and then, all at once, I was wide-awake staring 
 at the bubble of glass that formed the lamp in the ceil- 
 insf, and wonderino; where I was. 
 
 I recollected directly and glanced at my fellow- 
 traveller, to see that he was a little uneasy, one of his 
 legs being off the seat; but he was breathing heavily, 
 and evidently fast asleep. 
 
 I lay watching him for a few minutes, and then the 
 sweet restful feelino- mastered me afjain, and I went 
 off fast asleep. One moment there was the compart- 
 ment with its cushions and lamp with the rush and 
 sway of the carriage that made me think it must be 
 something like this on board ship; the next I was back 
 at the works keeping watch and wondering whether 
 either of the men would come and make any attempt 
 upon the place. 
 
 I don't know how long I had been asleep, but all 
 at once, without moving, I was wide-awake with my 
 eyes closed, fully realizing that I had a valuable packet 
 of some kind in my breast-pocket, and that ray fellow- 
 traveller was softly unbuttoning my overcoat so as to 
 get it out. 
 
 I lay perfectly still for a moment or two, and then 
 leaped up and bounded to the other side of the carriage. 
 
 " There, it is of no use," said my fellow-traveller; 
 " pull that letter out of your pocket and give it to me 
 quietly or" — 
 
 He said no more, but took a pistol out of his breast.
 
 I AM ATTACKED. 201 
 
 while I shrank up against the farther door, the window 
 ot" which was open, and stared at him aghast. 
 
 "Do you hear?" he said fiercely. "Come; no non- 
 sense! I want that letter. There, I don't want to 
 frighten you, boy. Come and sit down; I sha'n't hurt 
 you." 
 
 The train was flying along at forty miles an hour at 
 least, and this man knew that the packet I had was 
 valuable. How he knew it I could not tell, but he 
 must have found out at Arrowfield. He was going to 
 take it from me, and if he got it what was he going 
 to do? 
 
 I thouofht it all over as if in a flash. 
 
 He was going to steal the packet, and he would know 
 that I should complain at the first station we reached; 
 and he would prevent this, I felt sure. But how? 
 
 There was only one way. He had threatened me 
 with a pistol, but I did not think he would use that. 
 No; there was only one way, and it was this — he would 
 rob me and throw me out of the train. 
 
 My legs shook under me as I thought this, and the 
 light in the carriage seemed to be dancing up and down, 
 as I put my right arm out of the window and hung to 
 the side to keep myself up. 
 
 All this was a matter of moments, and it seemed 
 to be directly after my fellow-passenger had spoken 
 first that he roared out, " Do you hear, sir ? Come 
 here!" 
 
 I did not move, and he made a dash at me, but, as 
 he did, my right hand rested on the fastening of the 
 door outside, turned the handle, and clinging to it, I 
 swuno- out into the rushincj wind, turning half round 
 as the door banged heavily back, when, by an instinc- 
 tive motion, my left hand caught at anything to save 
 me from falling, grasped the bar that ran along between 
 door and door, and the next moment, how I know not, 
 I was clinging to this bar with my feet on the foot-
 
 202 A FEARFUL RISK, 
 
 board, and my eyes strained back at the open door, out 
 of which my fellow-passenger leaned. 
 
 "You young idiot, come back!" he roared; but the 
 effect of his words was to make me shrink farther 
 away, catching at the handle of the next door, and then 
 reaching on to the next Ijar, so that I was now several 
 feet away. 
 
 The wind seemed as if it would tear me from the 
 footboard, and I was obliged to keep my face away to 
 breathe, but I clung to the bar tightly, and watched 
 the fierce face that was thrust out of the door I had 
 left. 
 
 "Am I to come after you?" he roared. "Come 
 back!" 
 
 My answer was to creep past another door, to find 
 to my horror that this was the last, and that there 
 was a great gap between me and the next carriage. 
 
 What was I to do? Jump, with the train dashing 
 alonof at such a rate that it seemed as if I must be 
 shaken down or torn off by the wind. 
 
 I stared back horror-stricken and then uttered a cry 
 of fear, as the window I had just passed was thrown 
 open and a man leaned out. 
 
 " I'll swear I heard someone shout," he said to a 
 travelling companion, and he looked back along the 
 train. " Yes," he continued, " there's someone three 
 compartments back looking out. Oh, he's gone in now. 
 Wonder what it was!" 
 
 Just then he turned his head in my direction, and 
 saw my white face. 
 
 I saw him start as I clung there just a little way 
 below hiiii to his right, and within easy reach, and, for 
 I should think a minute, we stared hard at each other. 
 
 Then he spoke in a quiet matter-of-fact way. 
 
 "Don't be scared, my lad," he said; "it's all right. 
 I can take hold of you tightly. Hold fast till 1 get 
 you by the arras. That's it; now loose your right hand
 
 < 
 
 < 
 
 o 
 
 o
 
 SAVED. 203 
 
 and take hold of the door; here pass it in. That's the 
 way; edge along. I've got you tight. Come along; 
 now the other liand in. That's the way." 
 
 I obeyed hiui, for he seemed to force me to by his 
 firm way, but the thought came over me, " Suppose he 
 is that man's companion." But even if he had been, I 
 was too much unnerved to do anything but what he 
 bade me, so I passed one hand on to the window-frame 
 of the door, then edged along and stood holding on 
 with the other hand, for he had me as if his grasp 
 was a vice, and then his hands glided down to my 
 waist. He gripped me by my clothes and flesh, and 
 before I could realize it he had dragged me right in 
 through the window and placed me on the seat. 
 
 Then dragging up the window he sank back oppo- 
 site to me and cried to a gentleman standing in the 
 compartment: 
 
 "Give me a drop of brandy, Jem, or I shall faint!" 
 
 I crouched back there, quivering and unable to speak. 
 I was so unnerved; but I saw the other gentleman 
 hand a flask to the blufl'-looking man who had saved 
 me, and I saw him take a hearty draught and draw a 
 long breath, after which he turned to n)e. 
 
 " You young scoundrel ! " he cried ; " how dare you 
 give me such a fright!" 
 
 I tried to speak, but the words would not come. I 
 was choking, and I believe for a minute I literally 
 sobbed. 
 
 " There, there, my lad," said the other kindly, 
 " You're all right. Don't speak to him like that now, 
 Jordan. The boy's had a horrible scare." 
 
 "Scare!" said the big bluft* man; "and so have I. 
 Why, my heart was in my mouth. I M'ouldnt go 
 through it again for a hundred pounds. How did you 
 come there, sir?" 
 
 " Let him be for a few minutes," said the other 
 gently. " He'll come round directly, and tell us."
 
 204 I COME ROUND. 
 
 I gave him a grateful look and held ovit my wet 
 hand, which he took and held in his. 
 
 " The boy has had a terrible shock," he said. " He'll 
 tell us soon. Don't hurry, my lad. There, be calm." 
 
 I clung to his hand, for he seemed to steady me, 
 my hand jerking and twitching, and a curious sensation 
 of horror that I had never felt before seeming to be 
 upon me; but by degrees this passed off, the more 
 ([uickly that the two gentlemen went on talking as if 
 I were not there. 
 
 " I'm so much obliged," I said at last, and the big 
 bluff man lauohed. 
 
 " Don't name it," he said, nodding good-humouredly. 
 " Five guineas is my fee." 
 
 I shivered. 
 
 " And my friend here. Doctor Brown, will have a 
 bigger one for his advice." 
 
 " He's joking you, my lad," said the other gentleman 
 smiling. " I see you are not hurt." 
 
 "No, sir," I said; "I—" 
 
 The trembling came over me again, and I could not 
 speak for a minute or two, but sat gazing helplessly 
 from one to the other. 
 
 " Give him a drop of brandy," said the big bluff 
 man. 
 
 "No, let him be for a few minutes; he's mastering 
 it," was tlie reply. 
 
 This did me good, and making an effort I said 
 quickly : 
 
 " A man in the carriage tried to rob me, and I got 
 on to the footboanl and came along here." 
 
 " Then you dii I what I dare not have done," said the 
 one who drugged me in. "But a pretty state of affairs 
 this. On the railway, and no means of communi- 
 cating." 
 
 " But there are means." 
 
 " Tchah! how was the poor lad to make use of them?
 
 HE ESCAPES. 205 
 
 Well, wc shall have the scoundrel, unless he gets out of 
 the train and jumps for it. We must look out when 
 we stop for taking the tickets. We shall not halt 
 before." 
 
 By degrees I grew quite composed, and told them all. 
 
 " Yes," said my big friend, " it was very brave of 
 you; but I think I should have parted with all I had 
 sooner than have run such a risk." 
 
 " If it had been your own," said the other gentleman. 
 " In this case it seems to me the boy would have been 
 robbed, and probably thrown out afterwards upon the 
 line. I think you did quite right, my lad, but I should 
 not recommend the practice to anyone else." 
 
 They chatted to me pleasantly enough till the train 
 began at last to slacken speed preparatory to stopping 
 for the tickets to be taken, and at the first symptom 
 of this my two new friends jumped up and let down 
 the windows, each leaning out so as to command a 
 view of the back of the train. 
 
 I should have liked to look back as well, but that 
 was impossible, so I had to be content to sit and listen ; 
 but I was not kept long in suspense, for all at once 
 the quieter and more gentlemanly of my companions 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " I thought as much. He has just jumped off, and 
 run down the embankment. There he goes!" 
 
 I ran to the side, and caught a glimpse of a figure 
 melting away into the darkness. Then it was gone. 
 
 " There goes all chance of punishing the scoundrel," 
 said the big bluft' man, turning to me and smiling 
 good-temperedly. " I should have liked to catch him, 
 but I couldn't afibrd to risk my neck in your service, 
 young man." 
 
 I thanked him as well as I could, and made up my 
 mind that if my father was waiting on the platform 
 he should make a more satisfactory recognition of the 
 services that had been performed.
 
 206 THE journey's END. 
 
 This did not, however, prove so easy as I had hoped, 
 for in the confusion of trying to bring them together 
 when I found my father waiting, I reached the spot 
 where I had left my travelling-companions just in time 
 to see them drive off in a cab. 
 
 •U
 
 CHAPTER XVIIL 
 
 AGAINST THE LAW. 
 
 HE next day, after recounting plenty of my 
 adventures to my mother, but, I ain afraid, 
 dressing some of them up so that tliey 
 should not alarm her, a letter reached me 
 from Uncle Bob. 
 
 It was very short. He hoped I had reached town 
 safely, and found all well. The night had passed 
 quite quietly at the works, and he ended by saying: 
 
 " I took up the trap. All right!" 
 
 That was a great relief to me, and made my stay in 
 town quite pleasant, 
 
 I went down to the old works with my father, 
 and it made me smile to see how quiet and orderly 
 everything was, and how different to the new line of 
 business we had taken up. The men here never 
 thouo'ht of conimittino- outrages or interferino- with 
 those who employed them, and I could not help think- 
 ing what a contrast there was between them and the 
 Arrowfield rough independence of mien. 
 
 My father questioned me a great deal about mat- 
 ters upon which my uncles had dwelt lightly, but I 
 found that he thoroughly appreciated our position 
 there and its risks. 
 
 " Not for another six months, Cob," he said in 
 answer to an inquiry as to when he was coming down.
 
 208 BACK AGAIN. 
 
 "You four must pacify the country first/' he added 
 laughing, ''and liave tlie business in good going order." 
 
 My visit was very pleasant, and I could not helj? 
 feeling proud of the treatment I received at home ; but 
 all the same I was glad to start again for Arrowfield 
 and join my uncles in their battle for success. 
 
 For there was something very exciting in these 
 struggles with the men, and now I was away all this 
 seemed to be plainer, and the attraction grew so that 
 there was a disposition on my part to make those at 
 home quite at their ease as to the life I was leading 
 down at Arrowtield. 
 
 At last the day came for me to start on my return 
 journey, when once more I had a packet to bear. 
 
 " I need not tell you that it is of great value, Cob," 
 said my father. " Button it up in your pocket, and 
 then forget all about it. That is the safest way. It 
 takes off all the consciousness." 
 
 " I don't suppose I shall meet my friend this time," 
 I said. 
 
 My father shuddered slightly. 
 
 "It is not likely," he said; "but I should strongly 
 advise you to change carriages if you find yourself 
 beint; left alone with a stranger." 
 
 Word had been sent down as to the train I should 
 travel by, and in due time I found myself on the 
 Arrowfield platform and back at our new home, where 
 Mrs. Stephenson and Tattsey were ready with the most 
 friendly of smiles. 
 
 " Everything has been going on splendidly," was the 
 report given to me. Piter had been carefully attended 
 to, and the works watched as well as if I had been at 
 Arrowfield. 
 
 I felt annoyed, and, I suppose, showed it, for it 
 seemed as if my uncles were bantering me, but the 
 annoyance passed off directly under the influence of the 
 warmth dis{jlayed by all three.
 
 TONING DOWN. 209 
 
 " I'm beginning to be hopeful now that work will 
 go on steadily, that this watching can be given up, 
 and that we can take to a few country excursions, 
 some fishing, and the like." 
 
 That was Uncle Dick's expressed opinion ; and I was 
 glad enough to hear it, for though I did not mind the 
 work I liked some play. 
 
 Uncle Jack was just as hopeful; but Uncle Bob 
 evidently was not, for he said very little. 
 
 This time I had travelled by a day train, and I was 
 quite ready to take my turn at the watching that 
 night. Uncle Jack, whose turn it was, opposed my 
 going, as I had been travelling so far; but I insisted, 
 saying that I had had my i-egular night's rest ever 
 since I had left them, and was consequently quite fresh. 
 
 I wanted to ask Uncle Bob where he had hidden 
 the trap, but I had no opportunity, and as neither 
 Uncle Dick nor Uncle Jack made any allusion to it I 
 did not start the subject. 
 
 Perhaps Uncle Bob had not told them, meaning to 
 have a few words with me first. 
 
 It almost seemed like coming home to enter the 
 works ao-ain, where Piter was most demonstrative in 
 
 IT 
 
 his afl^ection, and carried it to such an extent that 1 
 could hardly get away. 
 
 I had a look round the gloomy old place at once, 
 and felt quite a thrill of pride in the faintly glowing 
 furnaces and machinery as I thought of the endless 
 things the place was destined to produce. 
 
 " Look here. Cob," said Uncle Jack, " I shall lie down 
 for three hours, mind; and at the end of that time 
 you are to wake me. It is only nine o'clock now, and 
 you can get over that time with a book. There will 
 be no need to walk round the place." 
 
 " Would Piter warn us, do you think?" I said. 
 
 "Oh, yes! It is getting quite a form our being here. 
 The men are toning down." 
 
 ( 322 ) O
 
 210 PITER AND I. 
 
 He threw himself on the bed, and I took up a book 
 and read for an hour, after which I had a walk through 
 the gloomy workshops, and in and out of the fur- 
 nace-houses and smithies, where all was quiet as 
 could be. 
 
 After this I felt disposed to go and open the big 
 door and look down into the wheel-pit. I don't know 
 why, only that the place attracted me. I did not, 
 however, but walked back to the doorway to look at 
 the glow which overhung the town, with the heavy 
 canopy of ruddy smoke, while away behind me the 
 stars were shining brightly, and all was clear. 
 
 I patted Piter, who came to the full length of his 
 chain, and then I had a look about with the lantern to 
 see if I could find where Uncle Bob had put the 
 trap. 
 
 I felt that it must be under lock and key some- 
 where, but the cupboards had nothing to show, and, 
 try how I would, I could think of no likely place for 
 it to be hidden in. 80 I gave up the task of trying to 
 find it, and walked back to the door, where I found 
 Piter lying down hard at work trying to push his 
 collar over his head. 
 
 The patient, persevering way in which he tried, get- 
 ting both his forepaws against it, was most .amusing, 
 the more so that there was not the slightest possibility 
 of success attending his efforts, for his neck, which the 
 collar fitted pretty closely, was small, and his bullet 
 head enormous by comparison. 
 
 " Come," I said, as I bent over him; "shall I undo it 
 for you?" 
 
 He looked up at me as I put the dark lantern down, 
 and whined softly. Then he began working at the 
 collar again. 
 
 " Look here," I said, as I sat on the bottom step. 
 "Shall 1 undo it?" 
 
 Dogs must have a good deal of reason, for Piter
 
 A NOISE IN THE NIGHT, 211 
 
 leaped up and laid his head in my lap directly, holding 
 it perfectly still while I unbuckled the strap collar, 
 when he gave a snitf or two at my hands, licked them, 
 and bounded off to have a regular good run all over 
 the place before he came back and settled down 
 close to me in the little office where I w^as trying to 
 read. 
 
 Twelve o'clock at last, and I awoke Uncle Jack, w^ho 
 rose at once, fresh and clear as if he were amply rested, 
 and soon after I w^as fast asleep, dreaming aw^ay and 
 fancying I could hear the rattle and the throb of the 
 train. Then I was talking to that man again, and then 
 swinging out on the carriage-door with the wind rush- 
 ing by, and the bluff man leaning out over me, and 
 Piter on the carriage wdth him, barking at my aggres- 
 sor, who was shrieking for mercy. 
 
 Then I was awake, to see that it w^as Uncle Jack 
 w^ho was leaning over me, and the window was open, 
 admitting a stream of cold air and a curious yelling 
 noise, mingled with the barking of a dog. 
 
 "What is the matter?" I cried. 
 
 "That's what I want to know," said Uncle Jack. 
 " T went with a candle, but the wind puffed it out. 
 Where did you put the lantern?" 
 
 " Lantern — lantern!" I said in a confused way, "did 
 I have it?" 
 
 "Yes; you must have had it. Can't you think? 
 Gracious, what a noise! Piter must have got someone 
 by the throat." 
 
 " Oh, I know!" I cried as I grew more fully awake. 
 " On the shelf in the entry." 
 
 We ran down together, and a faint glow showed its 
 whereabouts, still alight, but with the dark shade 
 turned over the bull's-eye. 
 
 "Where does the noise come from?" I said, feeling 
 startled at the alarming nature of the cries, freshly 
 awakened as I was from sleep.
 
 212 CAUGHT FAST. 
 
 " I can hardly tell," he said, seizing the hxntcrn and 
 taking a sharp hold of his stick. "Bring a stick 
 with you, my boy, for there may be enemies in the 
 way." 
 
 "Why, uncle," I cried, "some poor creature has fallen 
 from the side path into the dam." 
 
 "Some wretclied drunken workman then," he said, 
 as we hurried in the direction, and there seemed to be 
 no doubt about it now, for there was the splashing of 
 water, and the cry of "Help!" while Piter barked more 
 furiously than ever. 
 
 We ran down to the edge of the dam, the light of the 
 bull's-eye flashing and dancing over the ground, so that 
 we were able to avoid the difi'erent objects lying about; 
 and directly after the light played on the water, and 
 then threw into full view the figure of the bull-dog as 
 he stood on the stone edge of the dam barking furiously 
 at a man's head that was just above the surface of the 
 water. 
 
 "Help! help!" he cried as we drew near, and then I 
 uttered a prolonged "Oh!" and stood still, 
 
 "Quiet, Piter! down, dog! can't you see it is a 
 friend!" 
 
 But the dog seemed to deny it, and barked more 
 furiously than ever. 
 
 "Quiet, sir! Here, Cob, lay hold of the lantern. Will 
 you be quiet, dog! Lay hold of him. Cob, and hold 
 him." 
 
 I obeyed in a half stupid way, holding the lantern 
 with one hand, as I went on my knees, putting my 
 arm round Piter's neck to hold him back; and in that 
 way I struggled back from the edge, watching my 
 uncle as I made the light fall upon the head staring 
 wildly at us, a horrible white object just above the 
 black water of the dam. 
 
 " Help ! help ! " it cried. " Save me. Oh ! " 
 
 "Catch hold of the stick. That's right; now your
 
 UNCLE jack's wonder. 213 
 
 hand. Well done! What's holding you down? Have 
 you got your foot entangled? That's better: how did 
 you fall in?" 
 
 As my uncle rapidly asked these questions he got 
 hold of the man, and dragged him on to the stone edge 
 of the dam, when there was a horrible clanking noise, 
 the rattle of a chain, the man uttered a hideous yell, 
 and as Piter set up a tremendous barking again I 
 turned oft" the li<T;ht. 
 
 "Here, don't do that," cried my uncle. 
 
 I hardly know what induced me to turn oft" the light, 
 unless it was a shamefaced feeling on being, as I 
 thouglit, found out. And yet it did not seem that I was 
 the gviilty party. Uncle Bob had said he had taken up 
 the trap, and it was all right. He must have altered 
 his mind and set it again. 
 
 "That's better," said my uncle as I turned on the 
 light once more; and then Piter made such a struggle 
 that I could not hold him. There was a bit of a sculHe, 
 and he was free to rush at the man, upon whom he 
 fixed himself as he lay there howling ami dripping 
 with water. 
 
 The man yelled again horribly, sprang up with Piter 
 holdins: on to him; there was the same horrible clank- 
 inof noise on the stones, and down he fell once more 
 groaning. 
 
 "Help! murder! take away the dorg. Oh, help!" he 
 cried. 
 
 "Good oTacious! what is the matter?" cried Uncle 
 Jack, telling me what I knew. "The man's leg's in a 
 trap." 
 
 He sprang up again, for by main force Uncle Jack 
 had drasa'ed Piter away with his mouth full of trouser 
 leg; but there were only two clanks and a sprawl, for 
 the poor wretch fell headlong again on the stones, 
 praying for mercy. 
 
 "Why, his leg's in a great trap, and it's held by a
 
 214 "TEK IT OFF." 
 
 chain," cried Uncle Jack. "Here, how came you in this 
 condition.''" 
 
 "Eh mestcr, aw doan know. Deed aw doan know," 
 the fellow groaned. " Hey, but it's biting my leg off, 
 and I'll be a lame man to the end o' my days." 
 
 "Why, it's Gentles!" cried Uncle Jack, taking the 
 lantern from me, for I had enough to do to hold the 
 dog. 
 
 "Tek off the thing; tek off the thing," groaned the 
 man. " It's a cootin my leg i' two, I tell'ee." 
 
 "Hold your noise, and don't howl like that," cried 
 Uncle Jack angrily, for he seemed to understand now 
 that the man must have climbed over into the yard 
 and been caught, though he was all the more surprised, 
 for quiet smooth-faced Gentles was the last man any- 
 one would have suspected. 
 
 "But I tell'ee its tekkin off my leg," groaned the 
 man, and he made another trial to escape, but was 
 checked by the peg driven tightly into the ground 
 between the stones, and he fell again, hurting himself 
 hoi-ribly. 
 
 "I shall be a dead man — murdered in a minute," he 
 groaned. "Help! Oh, my poor missus and the bairns! 
 Tek off that thing, and keep away yon dorg." 
 
 "Look here," said Uncle Jack, making the light play 
 on the poor wretch's miserable face. "How came you 
 here?" 
 
 "Your dorg flew at me, mester, and drove me in t' 
 watter." 
 
 "Yes, exactly; but how came you in the yard?" 
 
 "I d'know, mester, I d'know." 
 
 "I suppose not," said Uncle Jack. 
 
 "Tek off that thing, mester; tek off that thing. It's 
 most cootin off my leg." 
 
 I was ready to add my supplications, for I knew the 
 poor wretch must be in terrible agony; but I felt as if 
 I could not speak.
 
 GENTLES IN DIFFICULTIES. 215 
 
 "I'll take it off by and by, when I know how you 
 came here." 
 
 "I tell'ee it's 'gen the law to set they montraps," 
 cried the fellow in a sudden burst of anger, "and I'll 
 have the law o' thee." 
 
 "I would," said Uncle Jack, still making the light 
 play over the dripping figure, and then examining the 
 trap, and tracing the chain to the peg. "Hullo!" he 
 cried, "what's this?" 
 
 He was holding the lantern close to a dark object 
 upon the ground quite close, and Gentles uttered a 
 fresh yell, bounded up, made a clanking noise, and fell 
 again groaning. 
 
 "Doan't! doan't! Thoult blow us all to bits." 
 
 "Oh, it's powder, then, is it?" cried Uncle Jack 
 
 "Hey, I d'know, mester, I d'know." 
 
 "Didn't bring it with you, I suppose?" said Uncle 
 Jack. 
 
 "Nay, mester, I didn't bring it wi' me." 
 
 "Then how do you know it's powder?" 
 
 "Hey, I d'know it's powder," groaned the miserable 
 wretch. "It only looks like it. Tek off this trap thing. 
 Tek away the light. Hey, bud I'm being killed." 
 
 " Let me see," said Uncle Jack with cool deliberation. 
 "You climbed over the wall with that can of powder and 
 the fuse." 
 
 "Nay, nay, mester, not me." 
 
 "And fell into a trap." 
 
 "Yes, mester. Tek it off" 
 
 "Where did you mean to put that can of powder?" 
 
 "Nay, mester, I — " 
 
 "Tell me directly," cried Uncle Jack, giving the 
 chain a drag and making Gentles yell out; "tell me 
 directly, or I'll pitch you into the dam." 
 
 Uncle Jack's manner w^as so fierce that the man 
 moaned out feebly: 
 
 "If I tell'ee wilt tek off the trap?"
 
 216 LET OUT. 
 
 " Perhaps I will. Speak out. Where did you mean 
 to put the powder can?" 
 
 " Under big watter-wheel, mester." 
 
 "And fire the fuse?" 
 
 "Yes, mester." 
 
 " How long would it have burned?" 
 
 " Twenty minutes, mester." 
 
 "Same length as the one that was run in the furnace- 
 house?" 
 
 "Yes, mester." 
 
 "You cowardly scoundrel! You were in that too, 
 then," cried Uncle Jack, going down on one knee and 
 seizing the man by the throat and shaking him till he 
 realized how horribly he was punishing him, when he 
 loosed his hold. 
 
 " Don't kill me, mester. Oh, my wife and bairns ! " 
 
 " A man with a wife and children, and ready to do 
 such a dastardly act as that! Here, you shall tell me 
 this, who set you on?" 
 
 The man set his teeth fast. 
 
 " Who set you on, I say?" 
 
 " Nay, mester, I canna tell," groaned Gentles. 
 
 " But you shall tell," roared tJncle Jack. " You shall 
 stay here till you do." 
 
 "I can't tell; I weant tell," groaned the man. 
 
 "We'll see about that," cried Uncle Jack. "Pah! 
 what a brute I am! Hold the light. Cob. Piter! you 
 touch him if you dare. Let's see if we can't get this 
 trap open." 
 
 He took hold of it gently, and tried to place it flat 
 upon the stones, but the poor trapped wretch groaned 
 dismally till he was placed in a sitting posture with 
 his knee bent, when Piter, having been coerced into a 
 neutral state. Uncle Jack pressed with all his might 
 upon the spring while I worked the ring upon it half 
 an inch at a time till the jaws yawned right open and 
 Gentles' leg was at liberty.
 
 OUR HONEST WORKMAN. 217 
 
 He groaned and was evidently in great pain; but as 
 soon as it was otf, his face was convulsed with passion, 
 and he shook his fists at Uncle Jack. 
 
 " I'll hev the law of ye for this here. I'll hev the 
 law of ye." 
 
 " Do," said Uncle Jack, picking up the can of powder; 
 "and I shall bring this in against you. Let me see. 
 You confessed in the presence of this witness that 
 you came over the wall with this can of powder to 
 blow up our water-wheel so as to stop our works. 
 Mr. Gentles, I think we shall get the better of you 
 this time." 
 
 The man raised himself to his feet, and stood with 
 great difficulty, moaning with pain. 
 
 " Now," said Uncle Jack, " will you go back over the 
 wall or out by the gate." 
 
 " I'll pay thee for this. I'll pay thee for this," hissed 
 the man. 
 
 Uncle Jack took him again by the throat. 
 
 " Look here," he said fiercely. " Have a care what 
 you are doing, my fine fellow. You have had a narrow 
 escape to-night. If we had not been carefully watch- 
 ing you would by now have been hanging by that 
 chain — drowned. Mind you and your cowardly sneak- 
 ing scoundrels of companions do not meet with some 
 such fate next time they come to molest us. Now go. 
 You can't walk ? There's a stick for you. I ought to 
 break your thick skull with it, but I'm going to be 
 weak enough to give it to you to walk home. Go home 
 and tell your wife and children that you are one of the 
 most treacherous, canting, hj-pocritical scoundrels in 
 Arrowfield, and that you have only got your deserts if 
 you are lamed for life." 
 
 He gave Gentles his stick and walked with him to 
 the gate, which he unlocked and held open for him to 
 pass out groaning and suffering horribly. 
 
 "Good night, honest faithful workman!" he said;
 
 218 LONG ODDS. 
 
 " friendly man who only wanted to be left alone. Do 
 you want your can of powder? No: I'll keep it as a 
 memento of your visit, and for fear you might have an 
 accident at home." 
 
 The man groaned again as he passed out and stag- 
 gered. 
 
 "Poor wretch!" said Uncle Jack, so that I alone 
 heard him. " Ignorance and brutality. Here," he said 
 aloud, " take my arm. I'll help you on to your house. 
 One good turn deserves another." 
 
 Uncle Jack went to him and took his stick in his 
 hand, when, fancying I heard something, I turned on 
 the light just in time to show Uncle Jack his danger, 
 for half a dozen men armed with sticks came out of 
 the shadow of the w^all and rushed at him. 
 
 It was fortunate for him that he had taken back the 
 stout oak walking-stick that he made his companion 
 on watchim? niolits, or he would have been beaten 
 down. 
 
 As it was he received several heavy blows, but he 
 parried others, and laid about him so earnestly that 
 two men went down, and another fell over Gentles. 
 
 By that time my uncle had retreated to the gate, 
 darted through, and banoed and locked it in his 
 enemies' face. 
 
 " Rather cowardly to retreat, Cob," he panted; " but 
 six to one are long odd.s. Where's the powder can?" 
 
 " I have it, uncle," I said. 
 
 " Ah, well, suppose you give it to me, or else the light! 
 The two don't go well together. They always quarrel, 
 and it ends in what Mr. O'Gallao-her in Perceval Keene 
 called a blow up." 
 
 I gave him the can, and then listened to the mutter- 
 ing of voices outside, half expecting that an attempt 
 might be made to scale the wall. 
 
 " No," said Uncle Jack; "they will not do that. They 
 don't make open attacks."
 
 A MISTAKE IN TRAPS. 219 
 
 " Did you see who the others were?" 
 
 " No, it was too dark. There, let's get inside. But 
 about that trap. I won't leave it there." 
 
 I walked with him in silence, and lighted him while 
 he dragged the iron peg out of the ground, and carried 
 all back to the ofSce, where he examined the trap, turn- 
 ing it over and over, and then throwing it heavily on 
 the floor. 
 
 He looked hard at me then, and I suppose my face 
 told tales. 
 
 " I thought so," he said; "that was your game, Master 
 Cob." 
 
 "Yes," I said; "but I thought it was taken up. I 
 told Uncle Bob to take it up when I went to Lon- 
 don." 
 
 " He thought you meant the trap of the drain," cried 
 Uncle Jack, roaring with laughter. "He had the brick- 
 layer to it, and said there was a bad smell, and it was 
 well cleaned out." 
 
 " Oh!" I exclaimed; " and I made sure that it was all 
 right again." 
 
 " How came you to set the trap there? 
 
 " I had seen marks on the wall," I said, " where 
 someone came over, but I never thought it could be 
 Gentles." 
 
 " No, my lad, one don't know whom to trust here; 
 but how came you to think of that?" 
 
 " It was the rat-trap set me thinking of it, and when 
 I made up my mind to do it I never thought it would 
 be so serious as it was. Are you very angry with me ?" 
 Uncle Jack looked at me with his forehead all in 
 wrinkles, and sat down on a high stool and tapped the 
 desk. 
 
 I felt a curious flinching as he looked so hard at me, 
 for Uncle Jack was always the most stern and uncom- 
 promising of my uncles. Faults that Uncle Dick 
 would shake his" head at, and Uncle Bob say "I say,
 
 220 SPRINGING A TRAP. 
 
 come, this won't do, you know," Uncle Jack would 
 think over, and talk about perhaps for two or three 
 days. 
 
 " I ought to be very angry with you, Cob," he said. 
 " This was a very rash thing to do. These men are 
 leading us a horrilile life, and they deserve any punish- 
 ment; but there is the law of the land to punish evil- 
 doers, and we are not allowed to take that law in our 
 own hands. You might have broken that fellow's leg 
 with the trap." 
 
 " Yes, I see now," I said. 
 
 " As it is I expect you have done his leg serious in- 
 jury, and made him a worse enemy than he was before. 
 But that is not the worst part of it. What we want 
 here is co-operation — that's a long word, Cob, but you 
 know what it means." 
 
 " Workino- too;ether," I said. 
 
 " Of course. You are only a boy, but you are jomed 
 with us three to mutually protect each other, and our 
 strength lies in mutual dependence, each knowing 
 exactly what the other has done." 
 
 " Yes, I see that, Uncle," I said humbly. 
 " How are we to get on then if one of the legs on 
 which we stand — you, sir, gives way? It lets the 
 whole machine down ; it's ruin to us, Cob." 
 " I'm very sorry, uncle." 
 
 " We are four. Well, suppose one of us gets spring- 
 ing a mine unknown to the others, what a position the 
 other three are in!" 
 
 " Yes," I said auain. " I see it all now." 
 " You didn't spring a mine upon us, Cob, but you 
 sprang a trap." 
 I nodded. 
 
 " It was a mistake, lad, though it has turned out all 
 right as it happened, and we liave been saved from a 
 terrible danger; but look here, don't do anything of the 
 kind again.'
 
 ROUGH TIMES COMING. 221 
 
 " Shall you go to the police about this?" I said. 
 
 " No, and I'm sure the others will agree with me. 
 We must bo our own police, Cob, and take care of 
 ourseWes; but I'm afraid we have rough times 
 coming."
 
 CHAPTEH XIX. 
 
 PANNELL SAYS NOTHING. 
 
 ETTER and better!" cried Uncle Dick, 
 waving a letter over his head one mor- 
 ning after the post had come in. " All we 
 have to do is to worl-c away. Our steel is 
 winning its way more and more in London, and there 
 is already a greater demand than we can supply." 
 
 " It seems funny too," I said. " I went through 
 Norton's works yesterday with Mr. Tomplin, and saw 
 them making steel, and it seemed almost exactly your 
 way." 
 
 "Yes, Cob," said Uncle Dick, "almost. It's that 
 trifling little difference that does it. It is so small 
 that it is almost imperceptible; but still it is enough 
 to make our steel worth half as much again as theirs." 
 
 "You didn't show them the difference, did you. Cob?" 
 said Uncle Jack, laughing. 
 
 "Why, how could I?" 
 
 •'Ah! I forgot; you don't know. But nevermind, 
 you'll arrive at years of discretion some day, Cob, and 
 then you will be trusted with the secret." 
 
 " I consider that he could be trusted now," cried 
 Uncle Dick. " I am quite willing to show him when- 
 ever he like.s. We make a fresh batch to-morrow." 
 
 "No," I said; " I don't want to be shown yet. I can 
 wait,"
 
 GENTLES WALKS LAME. 223 
 
 "Is that meant sulkily, or is it manly frankness?" 
 said Uncle Jack sharply. 
 
 " Oh, I'll answer that," replied Uncle Dick — " cer- 
 tainly not sulkily." 
 
 "I endorse that," said Uncle Bob; and I gave them 
 both a grateful look. 
 
 "He shall learn everything we know," said Dick. 
 " It is his rio'ht as his father's son. If we have not 
 shown him sooner it is on account of his fathers 
 interests, and because we felt that a secret that means 
 property or nothing is rather a weighty one for a lad 
 of his years to bear. Well, once more. Cob, you will 
 not mind being left?" 
 
 " No," I said, " you will not be away many hours. 
 The men will hardly know that you have gone, and if 
 they were to turn disagreeable I'm sure Pannell would 
 help me." 
 
 " Oh, there's no fear of any open annoyance," said 
 Uncle Jack; "the men have been remarkably quiet 
 since we caught Master Gentles. By the way, anyone 
 know how he is?" 
 
 " I know," I said. " I've seen Mrs. Gentles every 
 day, and he leaves the infirmary to-morrow." 
 
 " Cured?" 
 
 " Yes; only he will walk a little lame, that's all, and 
 only for a month or two." 
 
 " Well, take care of the place, Cob," said Uncle Jack. 
 " I don't suppose the men will interfere with you, but 
 if they do you can retreat." 
 
 " If you thought they would interfere with me," I 
 said, " you would not go." 
 
 They all laughed, and, as we had arranged, they left 
 the works one by one, and I went on just as usual, 
 looking in at one place, and then another, to see how 
 the men were going on, before retui'ning to the office 
 and copying some letters left for me to do. 
 
 It was a month since the adventure with the trap,
 
 224 "WANT ANOTHER TRAP?" 
 
 and to see the men no one could have imagmed that 
 there was the slis:hte,st discontent among them. 
 
 Tannell had said very little, though 1 had expected 
 he would; in fact he seemed to have turned rather 
 surly and distant to me. As for the other men, they 
 did their work in their regular independent style, and 
 I had come to the conclusion that my best way was to 
 treat all alike, and not make special friends, especially 
 after the melancholy mistake I had made in putting- 
 most faith in one who was the greatest scoundrel in 
 the place. 
 
 My uncles had gone to the next town to meet a firm 
 of manufacturers who had been making overtures that 
 seemed likely to be profitable, and this day had been 
 appointed for the meeting. 
 
 After a time I went into Pannell's smithy, to find 
 him hammering away as earnestly as ever, with his 
 forehead covered with dew, his throat open, and his 
 shirt-sleeves rolled up, so as to give his great muscles 
 full play. 
 
 " Well," he said all at once, "want another trap?" 
 
 " No," I said, smiling. " I say, Pannell, what did the 
 men think about it?" 
 
 He opened his lips to speak, but closed them directly. 
 
 "No," he said shortly; "won't do. I'm on t'other 
 side, you see." 
 
 " But you might tell me that," I cried. " I say, I 
 should as soon have thought of catching you as old 
 Gentles." 
 
 " Hush ! say rat," he whispered. " Don't name names. 
 And say, lad, don't talk about it. You don't want to 
 get me knocked on the head?" 
 
 "No, Pannell," I said; "indeed I don't. You're too 
 good a fellow." 
 
 " Nay, I'm not," he said, shaking his head. " I'm a 
 downright bad un." 
 
 " Not you."
 
 PANNELL can't SPEAK. 225 
 
 "Ay, but I am — reg'lar down bad un." 
 
 "What have you been domg?" 
 
 " Nowt," he said; and he brought down his hammer 
 with a tremendous bano- as if he meant to make a full 
 stop at the end of his sentence. 
 
 "Then why are you a bad one?" 
 
 He looked at me, then out of the window, then from 
 the door, and then back at me. 
 
 " I'm going to Lunnon to get work," he said. 
 
 "No, don't; we like you — you're such a good steady 
 workman. Why are you going?" 
 
 " Don't like it," he said. "Man can't do as he pleases." 
 
 " Uncle John says he can't anywhere, and the mas- 
 ters are the men's servants here." 
 
 "Nay, lad," he whispered as he hammered away. 
 " Men's worse off than the masters. Wuckman here 
 hev to do what the trade tells him, or he'd soon find 
 out what was what. Man daren't speak." 
 
 "For fear of o-ettino- into trouble with his mates?" 
 
 "Nay, his mates wouldn't speak. It's the trade; 
 hish!" 
 
 He hammered away for some time, and his skill with 
 his hammer fascinated me so that I stopped on watch- 
 ing him. A hammer to me had always seemed to be 
 a tool to strike straightforward blows; but Pannell's 
 hammer moulded and shaped, and always seemed to 
 fall exactly right, so that a piece of steel grew into 
 form. And I believe he could have turned out of the 
 glowing metal anything of which a model had been 
 put before his eyes. 
 
 "Well," I said, " I must go to my writing." 
 
 " Nay, stop a bit. We two ain't said much lately. 
 They all gone to Redham ? " 
 
 "Yes; how did you know?" 
 
 "Oh, we knows a deal. There aren't much goes on as 
 we don't know. Look ye here; I want to say summat, 
 lad, and I can't — yes, I can." 
 
 ( 322 ) P
 
 226 LEFT ALONE. 
 
 "Well, say it, then," I said, smiling at his eagerness. 
 
 " Going to — look here, there was a rat once as got 
 his leg caught in a trap." 
 
 "Yes, I know there was," I replied with a laugh. 
 
 "Nay, it's nowt to laugh at, lad. Rats has sharp 
 teeth; and that there rat — a fat smooth rat he were — 
 he said he'd bite him as set that trap." 
 
 "Pannell!" I cried, as a curious feeling of dread came 
 over me for a moment and then passed away. 
 
 "Ay, lad." 
 
 "You don't mean to say that?" 
 
 "Me! — I mean to say! IN^ay, lad, not me. I never 
 said nothing. 'Tain't likely!" 
 
 I looked at him searchingly, but his face seemed to 
 turn as hard as the steel he hammered; and finding 
 that he would not say any more, I left him, to go 
 thoughtfully back to my desk and try to write. 
 
 But who could write situated as I was — left alone 
 with about thirty workmen in the place, any one of 
 whom might be set to do the bitino- in revenue for the 
 trap-setting ? For there was no misunderstanding Pan- 
 nell's words; they were meant as a sort of warning 
 for me. And now what was I to do? 
 
 I wished my uncles had not gone or that they had 
 taken me, and I nearly made up my mind to go for a 
 walk or run back home. 
 
 But it seemed so cowardly. It was not likely that 
 anyone would touch me there, though the knowledge 
 the men evidently had of their masters' movements 
 was rather startling; and I grew minute by minute 
 more nervous. 
 
 "What a coward I am!" I said to myself as I began 
 writing, but stopped to listen directly, for I heard an 
 unusual hunnning down in the grinders' shop; but it 
 ceased directly, and I heard the wheel-pit door close. 
 
 " Something loose in the gear of the great wheel, 
 perhaps," I thought; and I went on writing.
 
 I GROW NERVOUS. 227 
 
 All at once the idea came upon me. Suppose they 
 were to try and blow me up! 
 
 I slipped off my stool and examined all the papers 
 beneath my desk and in the waste-paper basket, and 
 then I felt so utterly ashamed that I forced myself 
 back into my seat and tried to go on writing. 
 
 But it was impossible. The day was bright and 
 sunny and the water in the dam was dancing and glit- 
 tering, for the wind was oft' the hills and blew the 
 smoke in the other direction — over the town. There 
 was a great patch of dancing light on the ceiling re- 
 flected from the dam, and some flowers in the window 
 looked bright and sent out a sweet perfume; but I 
 could see nothing but men crawling in the dark with 
 powder-cans and fuses; and to make myself worse, I 
 must go to Uncle Jack's cupboard and look at the can 
 that we had found by Gentles that night, just as it 
 had been picked up, with a long fuse hanging out of 
 the neck and twisted round and round. 
 
 I went back after locking it up and taking out the 
 key, and after opening the window I stood looking out 
 to calm myself, wishing the while that I was right 
 away among the hills far from the noise of whirring 
 stones and shrieking metal, I knew the sun was 
 shining there, and the grass was green, and the view 
 was spread out for miles; while from where I .stood 
 there were the great black buildings, the tall shafts, 
 and close beneath me the dam which, in spite of the 
 sunshine, suggested nothing but men coming down 
 from the head on rafts of wood to work some mis- 
 chief. 
 
 The situation became intolerable; I could not write; 
 I could not get calm by walking up and down; and 
 every time there was a louder noise than usual from 
 the upper or lower workshop I started, and the perspi- 
 ration came out upon my face. 
 
 What a coward! you will say.
 
 228 I GET WORSE. 
 
 Perhaps so; but a boy cannot go through such ad- 
 ventures as fell to my lot and not have some trace 
 left behind. 
 
 I stood at last in the middle of the little office, and 
 thought of what would be the best thing to do. 
 
 Should I run away? 
 
 No; that would be too cowardly. 
 
 I came to the right conclusion, I am sure, for I 
 decided to go and face the danger, if there was any; 
 for I said to myself, " Better to see it coming than to 
 be taken unawares." 
 
 Now, please, don't think me conceited. In place of 
 being conceited, I want to set down modestly and 
 truthfully the adventures that befell me while my lot 
 was cast amono; a number of miso-uided men who, bound 
 together in what they considered a war against their 
 masters, were forced by their leaders into the perfor- 
 mance of deeds quite opposed to their ordinary na- 
 ture. It was a mad and foolish combination as 
 then conducted, and injured instead of benetiting their 
 class. 
 
 Urged by my nervous dread of coming danger, I, as 
 I have said, determined to see it if I could, and so be 
 prepared ; and in this spirit I put as bold a face on the 
 matter as possible, and went down the long w^orkshop 
 where the men were grinding and working over the 
 polishing wheels, which flew round and put such a 
 wonderful gloss upon a piece of metal. 
 
 Then I went down and into the furnace-house, where 
 the fires were glowing, and through the chinks the 
 blinding glare of the blast-fed flame seemed to flash 
 and cut the gloom. 
 
 The men there gave me a civil nod, and so did the 
 two smiths who were forging knives, while, when 
 I went next into Pannell's smithy, feeling all the more 
 confident for having made up my mind to action, the 
 big fellow stared at me.
 
 MORE CONFIDENT. 229 
 
 " Yow here agen?" he said, 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Well, don't stay, lad; and if I was you I should 
 keep out of wet grinders' shop." 
 
 "Why?" I said. 
 
 He banged a piece of steel upon his anvil, and the 
 only answers I could get from him were raps of the 
 hammer upon the metal; so I soon left him, feeling 
 highly indignant with his treatment, and walked 
 straight to his window, stepped up on the bench, and 
 looked down, wondering whether it would be any good 
 to fish from there. 
 
 The water after some hours' working was much 
 lower, so that a ledge about nine inches wide was laid 
 bare and offered itself as a convenient resting-place; 
 but I thought I would not fish while my uncles were 
 away, especially since they had left me in charge. 
 
 So I walked right to the very place I had been 
 warned to avoid, and found the men as busy as usual, 
 and ready enough to say a few civil words. 
 
 And so the afternoon wore away, and telling myself 
 that I had been scared at shadows, I felt a great 
 deal more confident by tea-time when the men were 
 leaving. 
 
 I sat in the office then as important as if I were the 
 master, and listened to their leaving and crossing the 
 yard. I could hear them talking to the gate-keeper, 
 and then I fancied I heard a rustling noise outside the 
 building, but it was not repeated, and I began listening 
 to the last men going, and soon after, according to his 
 custom, old Dunning the gatekeeper came to bring his 
 key. 
 
 I heard the old fellow's halting step on the stairs, 
 and trying to look very firm I answered his tap with 
 a loud and important " Come in!" 
 
 " All gone, Mester Jacob, sir," he said. " I s'pose 
 you'll tek a look round?'
 
 230 I HEAR OF A THREAT. 
 
 "Yes; I'll do that, Dunning," I replied. 
 
 "Then, good-night, sir!" 
 
 " One moment, Dunning," I cried, as he turned to 
 go. " I know you don't mix with the quarrels between 
 masters and men." 
 
 " Not I, Mester Jacob. I just do my bit o' work 
 here, which just suits me, being a worn-out sort o' man, 
 and then goes back home to my tea and my garden. 
 You've nivver seen my bit o' garden, Mester Jacob, sir. 
 You must come." 
 
 " To be sure I will, Dunning; but tell me, how do 
 the men seem now?" 
 
 " Bit tired, sir. End o' the day's wuck." 
 
 " No, no; I mean as to temper. Do you think they 
 are settling down?" 
 
 "0 ay; yes, sir. They'd be quiet enew if the trade 
 would let 'em alone." 
 
 " No threats or anything o£ that sort?" 
 
 " Well, you see, sir, I've no right to say a word," he 
 replied, sinking his voice. " If they thought I was a 
 talker, mebbe they'd be falling upon me wi' sticks; but 
 you've always been a kind and civil young gentleman 
 to me, so I will tell you as Gentles says he means to 
 pay you when he gets a chance." 
 
 " Then I must keep out of Mr. Gentles's way," I 
 said, laughing outside, for I felt very serious in. 
 
 " Ay, but that arn't it, Mester Jacob, sir," said 
 old Dunning, to make me more comfortable. "You 
 see, sir, you nivver know where to hev a man like that. 
 He might hit at you wi' his own fisty, but it's more'n 
 likely as he'll do it wi' some one else's, or wi' a clog or 
 a knobstick. You can nivver tell. Good-night, Mester 
 Jacob, sir. Keep a sharp look-out, sir, and so will I, 
 for I shouldn't like to see a nice well-spoken young 
 gentleman like you spoiled." 
 
 I followed Dunning down to the gate, and turned 
 the key after him, feeling horribly alarmed.
 
 ALL SEEMS SAFE. 231 
 
 Spoiled — not like to see a boy like me spoiled. 
 What did spoiling mean? I shuddered at the thought, 
 and though for a moment I thought of rushing out 
 and getting home as quickly as I could, there was a 
 sort of fear upon me that a party of men might be 
 waiting at one of the corners ready to shoot me. 
 
 "I must wait a bit, and get cool," I said; and then 
 looking about me, I shivered, for the great works 
 looked strange and deserted, there was a horrible still- 
 ness in the place, and I had never felt so lonely and 
 unpleasantly impressed even when watching in the 
 middle of the night. 
 
 Just then there was a whine and a bark, and Piter 
 gave his chain a jerk. 
 
 There was society for me at all events, and, going 
 to the kennel, I unhooked the spring swivel and set 
 the dog free, when, as usual, he showed his pleasure by 
 butting his great head at me and trying to force it 
 between my legs. 
 
 I was used to it and knew how to act, but with a 
 stranger it would have been awkward and meant 
 sitting down heavily upon the dog unless he leaped 
 out of the way. 
 
 Of course I did not sit down on Piter, but lifted a 
 leg over him, and as soon as he had become steady 
 made a sort of inspection of the place to see that no- 
 thing was wrong, feeling that it was a sort of duty to 
 do, as I was left alone. 
 
 Piter kept close to me, rubbing my leg with one ear 
 as we went all over the place, and as I found no powder 
 cans and fuses, no bottles full of fulminating silver, or 
 any other deadly implement, my spirits rose and I 
 began to laugh at myself for my folly. 
 
 There was only the lower workshop with its grind- 
 stones to look through, and lit up as it was by the 
 evening sun there did not seem to be anything very 
 terrible there. The floor was wet, and the stones and
 
 232 THE WHEEL-PIT. 
 
 their frames and bands cast broad shadows across the 
 place and on the opposite wall, but nothing seemed to 
 be wrong, only I could hear the hollow echoing plash 
 of the water fallino- from the wheel sluice down into 
 the stone-walled pit. 
 
 There was nothing new in this, only that it seemed 
 a little plainer than usual, and as I looked I saw that 
 the door had been left open. 
 
 That was nothing particular, but I went on to close 
 it, not being able to see the bottom, the view being cut 
 off by a great solid bench in the middle of the tioor. 
 On passing round this, though, I saw that there was 
 something wrong; two or three bands had gone from 
 as many grindstones, and had evidently been hastily 
 thrown into the wheel-pit, whoever had done this 
 having left one on the floor, half in and half out, and 
 keeping the door from shutting close. 
 
 " That couldn't be Gentles," I said aloud as I threw 
 back the door, and my words echoed in the great black 
 place, where the sunlight was cutting the shadow in a 
 series of nearly horizontal rays as it came in past the 
 wheel. 
 
 I could see at a glance the amount of the mischief 
 done: one band was evidently down in the water, and 
 hung hitched in some way on to the band upon the floor. 
 It had been intended to be dragged in as well, but it 
 had caufjht a-^-ainst the iron of the rail that surrounded 
 the bracket-like platform the width of the door and 
 projecting over the water, which was ten feet below. 
 
 I recalled standing upon it to catch eels, when I 
 contrived to catch the lost bands as well, and thinking 
 that perhaps after all there were several of the straps 
 sunken below me, I stooped down, took hold of the 
 band, and pulled. 
 
 It would not come, being caught somehow at the 
 edge of the platform; so gathering it closely in my 
 hands rather unwillingly, for it was a wet oily aflTair,
 
 A I'LUiNGE INTO THE WHEEL-PIT.
 
 A ROWLAND FOR AN OLIVER, 233 
 
 I stepped on to the platform, uttered a shriek, and fell 
 with a tremendous splash into the water below. I 
 felt the platform give way, dropping at once from 
 beneath my feet, and though I snatched at it my 
 hands glided over the boards in an instant and I was 
 down amidst a tangle of bands in the deep black water. 
 
 \0/< rr^J*
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A COMPANION IN TROUBLE. 
 
 CAN'T tell vou the horrors of those mo- 
 ments as they appeared to me. No descrip- 
 tion could paint it all exactly; but one 
 moment I was down in darkness with the 
 current thundering in my ears, the next I was up at the 
 surface beating and splashing, listening to the echoing 
 of the water, which sounded hollow and strange, look- 
 ing up at the sunshine that streamed in past the wheel, 
 and then I went under. 
 
 It is a strange admission to make, but in those first 
 few moments of surprise and horror I forgot that I 
 knew how to swim, and all my movements were in- 
 stinctive and only wearied and sent me down again 
 after I had risen. 
 
 Then reason came to my help, and I began to strike 
 out slowly and swam to the side of the great stone 
 chamber, passing one hand along the slimy wall trying 
 to get some hold, but finding none ; and then swimming 
 straight across to the other side and trying there, for 
 I dared not approach the wheel, which looked horrible 
 and dangerous, and I felt that if I touched it the great 
 circle would begin to revolve, and perhaps take me 
 down under the water, carry me up on the other side, 
 and throw me over again. 
 
 It looked too horrible, all wet, slimy, and dripping
 
 THE HORROKS. 235 
 
 as it was, or possibly I might have climbed up it and 
 reached the edge of the dam, so I swam right beyond 
 it and felt along the other side, but without avail. 
 'There was nothing but the slimy stonework, try 
 where I would, and the chill of horror began to have a 
 numbing effect on my arms. 
 
 I swam on to and fro beneath the doorway, with the 
 little platform hanging by one end far above my head, 
 and once as I swam my foot seemed to touch some- 
 thing, which might have been a piece of the sunken 
 wood or iron work, but which made nio shrink as if 
 some horrible monster had made a snatch at me. 
 
 I shouted, but there was only the hollow echoing of 
 the stone chamber and the lapping and whispering of 
 the water; and, knowing that I was alone locked in 
 the works, the terrible idea began to dance before me 
 that I was going to die, for unless I could save myself 
 I need not expect help. 
 
 The thought unnerved me more and more and made 
 me swim more rapidly in the useless fashion I was 
 pursuing, and once more I stared in a shrinking way 
 at the great wheel, which, innocent enough in itself, 
 seemed a more terrible engine than ever. I knew it 
 would move if I swam across and clung to it, and I 
 really dared not go near. 
 
 There was always something repellent and strange 
 even in a big water cistern in a house, and as a mere 
 boy I have often started back in terror at the noise 
 made by the pipes when the water was coming driving 
 the air before it with a snorting gurgle, and then 
 pouring in, while to climb up a ladder or set of steps 
 and look down into the black watery place always 
 gave me a shudder and made me glad to get away. 
 
 It is easy to imagine, then, what my feelings were, 
 suddenly cast into that great stone-walled place, with 
 I did not know what depth of water beneath me, and 
 inhabited as I knew by large twining eels.
 
 23 G IN PERIL OF DEATH. 
 
 I daresay the eels were as much afraid of me as I 
 was of thein; but that made no difference to my feel- 
 ings as I swam here and there trying in vain for some- 
 thing to which to cling; but in the darkest parts as 
 well as the lightest it was always the same, my hand 
 glided over the stones and splashed down again into 
 the water. 
 
 I was too much confused to think much, and moment 
 by moment I was growing more helpless. I can re- 
 member making a sort of bound to try and get a hold 
 of the broken platform above my head, but the effect 
 of that effort was only to send me below the surface. 
 I can recall, too, thinking that if I let my feet down 
 I might find bottom, but this I dared not do for fear of 
 what might be below; and so, each moment growing 
 more feeble, I stared at the opened doorway through 
 which I had come, at the iron-barred grating through 
 which the water escaped, and which was the entrance 
 to a tunnel or drain that ran beneath the works. Then 
 I turned my eyes up at the sunlit opening through 
 which seemed to come hope surrounding the black 
 tooth-like engine that was hung there ready to turn 
 and grind me down. 
 
 My energy was nearly exhausted, the water was 
 above my lips, and after a wild glare round at the 
 slimy walls the whispering lapping echoes were 
 changed for the thunderous roar and confusion felt by 
 one plunged beneath the surface; and in my blind 
 horror I began beating the water frantically in my 
 last struggle for life. 
 
 Natural instinct seems to have no hesitation in seiz- 
 ing upon the first help that comes. It was so here. I 
 might have swum to the wheel at first and clung to it, 
 but I was afraid; but now, after going under once or 
 twice — I'm sure I don't know which — I came up in 
 close proximity to the great mass of slimy wood- 
 work, one of my hands touched it, the other joined it
 
 CLINGING TO THE WHEEL. 237 
 
 directly, and I clung panting there, blind, confused, 
 helpless, but able to breathe. 
 
 Almost at the same moment, and before I knew 
 what 1 was holding on by, there came a sound which 
 sent hope and joy into my heart. It was the whim- 
 pering whine of Piter, who directly after set up a short 
 yapping kind of bark, and I had a kind of idea that 
 he must be somewhere on the woodwork inside the 
 wheel. 
 
 I did not know that he had fallen in at the same 
 time as I; and though once or twice I had heard him 
 whining, I did not realize that he was also m danger; 
 in fact the horrible overwhelming selfishness of the 
 desire for self-preservation had swept away everything 
 but the thought of how I was to get out of my trouble. 
 
 Every moment now gave me a little confidence, 
 though it was nearly driven away when, able to see 
 clearly again, I found myself holding on by one of the 
 wooden pocket-like places formed with boards on the 
 outer circumference of the engine — the places in fact 
 into which, when the sluice was opened, the water 
 rushed, and by its weight bore the wheel round. 
 
 After a few minutes' clinging there, beginning to 
 feel numbed and chilled by the cold, I realized that 
 the sun was setting, that the patches of light were 
 higher, and that in a very few minutes the horrors of 
 this place would be increased tenfold by my being 
 plunged in profound darkness. 
 
 I dreaded moving, but I knew that the water could 
 not come down upon me unless the sluice was opened, 
 and that was turned off when the men left work, so 
 that the water was saved for the next day, and the 
 wheel ceased to turn. I determined then to try and 
 climb up from pocket to pocket of the wheel and so 
 reach the stone-race at the opening, along which the 
 water poured. 
 
 My courage revived at this, and drawing my legs
 
 238 MY I'OSITION AND GENTLES'. 
 
 under me I got them upon one of the edges of the 
 pocket beneath the water, raised mj^seli' up and caught 
 hold of one higher than I had hold of before, and was 
 about to take a step higher when, to my horror, the 
 huge wheel began to feel the etiect of my weight, and 
 gradually the part I held descended. 
 
 At the same moment there was a loud splash, a 
 beating of the water, a whining barking noise, and I 
 knew I had shaken Piter oif the bar or sj)oke to which 
 he had been clinging inside. 
 
 "Here, Piter; here dog," I shouted; and he swam 
 round to me, whining piteously and seeming to ask me 
 for help. 
 
 This I was able to give him, for, holding tightly 
 with one hand, I got my right arm round him and 
 helped him to scramble up into one of the pockets, 
 though the effort had weighed down the wheel and I 
 sank deeper in the water. 
 
 I made another trial to climb up, but though the 
 resistance of the great wheel was sutiicient to support 
 me partly it soon began to revolve, and I knew that it 
 would go faster if I tried to struggle up. 
 
 I heaved a despairing sigh, and for tlie first time 
 began to think of Gentles. 
 
 " This must be his doing," I said to myself. He had 
 set some one to take out the support of the little plat- 
 form, and I was obliged to own that after all he had 
 only set a trap for me just as I had set one for him. 
 
 Still there was a great difference: he was on his way 
 to do harm when he was caught — I was engaged in my 
 lawful pursuits and trying to do good. 
 
 I had another trial, and another, but found it would, 
 in my exhausted state, be impossible to climb up, and 
 as 1 clung there, up to my chest in the water, and with 
 the dog close to me, he whined piteously and licked 
 my face. 
 
 The next minute he began to bark, stood up with
 
 LOSING HOPE. 239 
 
 his bind feet on the edge of one bar, his fore paws on 
 the one above, and made a bound. 
 
 To my surprise he reached his aim, and his weight 
 having no effect on the wheel, he scrambled up and up 
 till I knew he must have reached the top. 
 
 There was no doubt about it. 
 
 The next minute I heard the rattling shaking noise 
 made by a dog when getting rid of the water in its 
 coat. Then a loud and joyous barking. Then only the 
 dripping, plashing sound of the water that escaped 
 through the sluice and came running in and falling 
 about the wheel. 
 
 What time was it ? About half-past six, and the 
 men would not come to work till the next morning. 
 Could I hancr there till then? 
 
 I knew it was impossible — that in perhaps less than 
 half an hour I should be compelled to loose my hold 
 and fall back into the black water without strength 
 to stir a paralysed arm. 
 
 I shouted again and again, but the walls echoed back 
 my cry, and I knew it was of no use, for it was im- 
 possible for any one to hear me outside the place. It 
 was only wasting strength, and that was wanted to 
 sustain me as long as possible. 
 
 There was one hope for me, though: my uncles 
 would be returning from Redham at ten or eleven 
 o'clock, and, not finding me at home, they would come 
 in search of me. 
 
 When it is too late! 
 
 I must have said that aloud, for the word late came 
 echoing back from the wall, and for a time I hung 
 there, feeling numbed, as it were, in my head, and as 
 slow at thinking or trying to imagine some way of 
 escape as I was at movement. 
 
 But I made one more eftbrt. 
 
 It seemed to be so pitiful that a wretched, brainless 
 dog, when placed in a position like this, should be able
 
 540 NEARLY DONE. 
 
 to scramble out, while I, with the power of thinking 
 given to me, with reason and some invention, was 
 perfectly helpless. 
 
 This thought seemed to send a current like electricity- 
 through me, nerving me to make another effort, and 
 loosening one hand I caught at the bar above me as 
 before, changed the position of my feet, and began to 
 climb. 
 
 I gave up with a groan, for I was only taking the 
 place of the water and turning the wheel just as a 
 turnspit dog would work, or a squirrel in its cage, 
 only that I was outside the wheel and they would have 
 been in. 
 
 I came down with a splash; and as I clung there I 
 could hear the water go softly lapping against the wall 
 and whispering in the corners as if it were talking to 
 itself about how soon I should have to loose my hold, 
 sink down, and be drowned. 
 
 I was weakened by this last effort as well as by the 
 strain upon my nerves, and as the water ceased to lap 
 and whisper a horrible silence crept down into the place 
 in company with the darkness. Only a few minutes 
 before all was bright where the sun rays flashed in; 
 now there was only a soft glow to be seen, and all 
 about me black gloom. 
 
 I grew more and more numbed and helpless, and but 
 for the fact that I hung there by my hands being- 
 crooked over the edge of the board across the wheel, I 
 believe I must have fallen back, but my fingers stiffened 
 into position and helped me to retain my hold, till at 
 last they began to give way. 
 
 I had been thinking of home and of my uncles, and 
 wondering how soon they would find me, and all in a 
 dull nerveless way, for 1 suppose I was too much ex- 
 hausted to feel much mental or bodily pain, when all 
 at once I began to recall stories I had read about the 
 St. Bernard dogs and the travellers in the snow; and
 
 HELP WHERE NOT EXPECTED. 241 
 
 then about the shepherds' collies in the north and the 
 intelligence they displayed. 
 
 Several such tales came to my memory, and I was 
 just thinking to myself that they were all nonsense, 
 for if dogs had so much intelligence, why had not 
 Piter, who had a head big enough for a double share 
 of dogs' brains, gone and fetched somebody to help me, 
 instead of making his own escape, and then going and 
 curling himself up by one of the furnaces to get dry — 
 a favourite place of his if he had the chance. 
 
 Just then, as I seemed to be half asleep, I heard a 
 sharp bark at a distance, then another nearer, and 
 directly after Piter was on the top of the wheel, where 
 he had stepped from the sluice trough, barking with 
 all his mioht. 
 
 " Wheer is he then, boy? wheer is he then?" said a 
 gruff hoarse voice. 
 
 Piter barked more furiously than ever, and the glow 
 seemed to give way to darkness overhead, as the voice 
 muttered : 
 
 " Dear, dear ! Hey ! think o' that now. Mester Jacob, 
 are you theer?" 
 
 " Help!" I said, so faintly that I was afraid I should 
 not be heard. 
 
 " Wheerabouts ? In the watter ? " 
 
 " I'm — on — the wheel," I cried weakly, and then, as 
 I heard the sound of someone drawing in his breath, 
 I strove to speak once more and called out: 
 
 " Turn the wheel." 
 
 It began to move directly, but taking me down into 
 the water, and I uttered a cry, when the wheel turned 
 in the other direction, drawing me out and up. My 
 arms straightened out ; I was drawn closer to the 
 wood- work. I felt that I should slip off, when my toes 
 rested upon one of the bars, while, as I rose higher, the 
 tension on my arms grew less, and then less, and at last, 
 instead of hanging, I was lying upon my chest. Then 
 
 (322^ Q
 
 242 IN THE STOKE-HOLE. 
 
 a pair of great hands laid hold of me, and Piter was 
 licking my face. 
 
 Pannell told me afterwards that he had to carry me 
 all alonw the narrow stone ledi^e to the window of his 
 smithy, and thrust me through there before climbing 
 in after me, for it was impossible to get into the yard 
 the other way without a boat. 
 
 I must have fainted, I suppose, for when I opened 
 my eyes again, though it was in darkness, the icy 
 water was not round me, but I was lying on the warm 
 ashes down in one of the stoke-holes; and the faint 
 glow of the half-extinct tire was shining upon the shiny 
 brown forehead of the big smith. 
 
 "Pannell!" I exclaimed, "where am I?" 
 
 " Get out ! " he growled. " Just as if yow didn' know." 
 
 "Did you save me?" 
 
 "'Sh, will yo'!" he whispered. "How do we know 
 who'r a watching an' listening: ? Yow want to get me 
 knobsticked, that's what yow want." 
 
 " No, no," I said, shivering. 
 
 " Yow know where we are, o' course. Down in the 
 big stokul; but be quiet. Don't shout." 
 
 "How did you know I was in there?" 
 
 "What, in yonder?" 
 
 "Yes, of course; oh how my arms ache and throb!" 
 
 "Let me give 'em a roob, my lad," he said; and 
 strongly, but not unkindly, he rubbed and seemed to 
 knead my arms, especially the muscles above my elbows, 
 talking softly in a gruff murmur all the while. 
 
 " I did give you a wink, lad," ho said, " for I know'd 
 that some'at was on the way. I didn' know what, nor 
 that it was so bad as that theer. Lor' how can chaps 
 do it! Yow might hev been drowned." 
 
 "Yes," I said with a shiver. "The cowards!" 
 
 " Eh ! don't speak aloud, lad. How did you get in ? 
 Some un push thee?" 
 
 " Push me! no; the platform was broken loose, and
 
 WHAT PITER DID. 243 
 
 a trap set for me, baited with a wheel-band," I added 
 angrily. 
 
 Pannell burst into a laugh, and then checked himself. 
 
 " I weer not laughing at yow, lad," he whispered, 
 "but at owd Gentles. 80 yow got in trap too?" 
 
 "Trapped! yes; the cowardly wretches!" 
 
 ■' Ay, 'twere cowardly. Lucky I came. Couldn't feel 
 bottom, eh?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Nay, yow wouldn't; there's seven foot o' watter 
 there, wi'out mood." 
 
 "How did you know I was there?" 
 
 "What! didn' I tell ye?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " I were hani-ing about like, as nigh as I could for 
 chaps, a waitin' to see yow go home; but yow didnt 
 coom, and yow didn't coom ; and I got crooked like wi' 
 waiting, and wondering whether yow'd gone another 
 way, when all at once oop comes the bull poop tierce 
 like, and lays holt o' me by the leg, and shakes it liard. 
 I was going to kick un, but he'd on'y got holt of my 
 trowsis, and he kep on' shacking. Then he lets go and 
 barks and looks at me, and takes holt o' my trowsis 
 agin, and hangs away, pulling like, till I seemed to 
 see as he wanted me to coom, and I followed him." 
 
 "Good old Piter!" I said; and there was a whine. 
 I did not know it, but Piter was curled up on the warm 
 ashes close by me, and as soon as he heard his name 
 he put up his head, whined, and rapped the ashes with 
 his stumpy tail. 
 
 "He went to the wucks fast as he could, and slipped 
 in under the gate; but I couldn't do that, you see, Mes- 
 ter, and the gate was locked, so I was just thinking 
 what I'd best do, and wondering where you might be, 
 when I see Stivens come along, looking as if he'd like 
 to howd m}^ nose down again his grindstone, and that 
 made me feel as if I'd like to get one of his ears in my
 
 244 WATCHED. 
 
 tongs, and his head on my stithy. He looked at me, 
 and I looked at him, and then I come away and waited 
 till he'd gone." 
 
 "It seemed as if help would never come," I said. 
 
 " Ay, it weer long time," said Pannell ; " but I found 
 no one about at last, and I slipped over the wall." 
 
 " Yes, and I know where," 1 said. 
 
 " And there was Piter waiting and wanting me to 
 follow him. But there was no getting in — the doors 
 were locked. I seemed to know, though, that the dog 
 wanted to get me to the wheel-pit, and when I tried 
 to think how to get to you I found there was no way 
 'cept through my forge. 80 I got out o' my window, 
 and put the dorg down, and — well, I came. Arn't much 
 of a fire here, but if I blow it up Stivens or some on 
 'em will hear it, or see it, or something; and I s'pose I 
 shall have it for to-nic>:ht's work." 
 
 I did feel warmer and better able to move, and at 
 last I rose to make the best of my way back. 
 
 " Nobody will notice my wet things," I said, " now 
 it's dark. I don't know what to say to thank you, 
 Pannell." 
 
 " Say I was a big boompkin for meddling ower what 
 didn't consarn me. If I don't come to wuck to-morrow 
 you 11 know why." 
 
 "No; I shall not," I cried wonderingly. 
 
 "Ah, then, you'll have time to find out," he mut- 
 tered. " Good-nioht, lad!" 
 
 " Stop a moment and I'll open the gate," I cried. 
 
 " Nay, I shall go out as I come in. Mayn't be seen 
 then. Mebbe the lads'll be watching by the gate." 
 
 He stalked out, and as I followed him I saw his tall 
 gaunt figure going to the corner of the yard where the 
 trap was set, and then there was a scuffling noise, and 
 he had gone. 
 
 I left the place soon after, and as I fastened the 
 gate I fancied 1 saw Stevens and a man who limped
 
 NOT BEATEN BY FEAR. 245 
 
 in his walk; but I could not be sure, for the gas lamp 
 cast but a very feeble light, and I was too eager to get 
 home and change my things to stop and watch. 
 
 The run did me good, and by the time I had on a 
 dry suit I was very little the worse for my immersion, 
 being able to smile as I told my uncles at their re- 
 turn. 
 
 They looked serious enough, though, and Uncle Jack 
 said it was all owing to the trap. 
 
 The question of putting the matter in the hands 
 of the police was again well debated, but not carried 
 out — my uncles concluding that it would do no good 
 even if the right man were caught, for in punishing 
 him we should only have the rest who were banded 
 together more bitter against us. 
 
 " Better carry on the war alone," said Uncle Dick ; 
 " we must win in the end." 
 
 " If we are not first worn out," said the others. 
 
 "Which we shall not be," cried Uncle Dick, laughing. 
 " There are three of us to wear out, and as one gets 
 tired it will enrage the others; while when all three 
 of us are worn out we can depute Cob to carry on the 
 war, and he is as obstinate as all three of us put 
 together." 
 
 They looked at me and laughed, but I felt too much 
 stirred to follow their example. 
 
 "It is too serious," I said, "to treat like that; for I 
 am obstinate now much more than I was, and I should 
 like to show these cowards that we are not going to be 
 frightened out of the town." 
 
 " Cob don't know what fear is," said Uncle Jack 
 with a bit of a sneer. 
 
 " Indeed but I do," I replied. " I was horribly fright- 
 ened when I fell into that place; but the more they 
 frighten me, the more I want for us to make them 
 feel that we are not to be beaten by fear." 
 
 "Bravo!" cried Uncle Bob, clapping his hands.
 
 246 WE SEE SOMEONE. 
 
 "There! let's go on with our work," said Uncle Dick; 
 " we must win in the end." 
 
 To have seen the works during the next few days, 
 anyone would have supposed that there had never 
 been the slightest trouble there. After due consider- 
 ation the little platform had been replaced and the 
 bands taken from the grindstone gear duly put in 
 position, the men taking not the slightest notice, but 
 working away most industriously. 
 
 Pannell, however, did not come back, and his forge 
 was cold, very much to my uncles' annoyance. On 
 inquiry being made we were told that his mother was 
 dying, and that he had been summoned to see her. 
 
 I felt a little suspicious, but could hardly believe 
 that anything was wrong, till one evening Uncle Jack 
 proposed that we two should have a walk out in the 
 country for a change. 
 
 I was only too glad, for the thought of getting away 
 from the smoke and dirt and noise was delic^htful. 
 
 So as to get out sooner we took a short cut and were 
 going down one of the long desolate-looking streets of 
 rows of houses all alike, and built so as to be as ugly 
 as possible, when we saw on the opposite side a man 
 seated upon a door-step in his shirt-sleeves, and with 
 his head a good deal strapped and bandaged. 
 
 " That's one of the evils of a manufacturing trade 
 where machinery is employed," said Uncle Jack. "I'm 
 afraid that, generally speaking, the acsidents are occa- 
 sioned by the men's carelessness or bravado; but even 
 then it is a painful thing to know that it is your 
 machinery that has mutilated a poor fellow. That 
 poor fellow has been terribly knocked about, seem- 
 ingly." 
 
 "Yes," I said, looking curiously across the road. 
 
 " So far we have been wonderfully fortunate, but — 
 here, this way! where are you going?" 
 
 "Over here," I said, already half across the road;
 
 pannell's payment. 2i7 
 
 for the brawny arms and long doubled-up legs of the 
 man seemed familiar. 
 
 "Why?" cried Uncle Jack; but he followed me 
 directly. 
 
 "Pannell!" I exclaimed. 
 
 "What, Mester Jacob!" he cried, lifting up his head 
 with his face in my direction, but a broad bandage 
 was over his eyes." 
 
 "Why, what's all this?" I cried; "have you had 
 some accident?" 
 
 "Yes, met wi' acciden' done o' purpose." 
 
 "But they said your mother was dying," I cried as I 
 held the great hard hand, which was now quite clean. 
 
 "Ay, so I heard say," replied the great fellow. 
 
 "Is she better?" 
 
 "Better! well, she ain't been badly." 
 
 "Not dying?" said Uncle Jack. 
 
 " What's that yow, Mester?" said Pannell. " Sarvice 
 to you, sir. My mother! — dying! Well, I suppose she 
 be, slowly, like the rest of us." 
 
 "But wdiat have you been doing?" I cried. "What 
 a state you are in!" 
 
 " State I'm in ! Yow should have seen me a fortnit 
 ago, my lad. I'm splendid now — coming round fast." 
 
 "But how was it?" cried Uncle Jack, while I turned 
 white as I seemed to see it all. 
 
 "How was it, Mester!" said Pannell laughing. "Well, 
 you see, I weer heving bit of a walluck, wi' my pipe 
 in my mooth, and it being bit dusk like that night I 
 didn't see which way I were going, and run my head 
 again some bits o' wood." 
 
 "Sticks!" I said excitedly. 
 
 He turned his head towards me smiling. 
 
 " Couldn't see rightly as to that, Mester Jacob," he 
 said ; " I dessay they weer." 
 
 "And a set of cowards had hold of them!" I cried. 
 
 "Nay, I can't say," replied the great fellow. "Yow
 
 248 PATIENCK 
 
 see, Master, when owt hits you on the head it wuzzles 
 you like, and you feel maazed." 
 
 Uncle Jack stood frowning. 
 
 "You know very well, Pannell," I cried angrilj'-, 
 " that you have been set upon by some of these trea- 
 cherous cowards for helping me that evening. Oh, 
 Uncle Jack I" I cried, passionately turning to him, 
 "why don't you go to the police?" 
 
 "Howd thee tongue, lad!" cried Pannell fiercely. 
 "Yow don't know nowt about it. Don't yow do nowt 
 o' t' sort, Mester. Let well alone, I say." 
 
 " But I cannot stand still and see these outrages 
 committed," said Uncle Jack in a low angry voice. 
 
 " Hey, but thou'lt hev to, 'less you give up maakin' 
 'ventions. Trade don't like 'em, and trade will hev 
 its say." 
 
 "But that you should have been so brutally used for 
 doing a manly action for this boy," began Uncle 
 Jack. 
 
 "Theer, theer, theer," said Pannell; "I don't kick agen 
 it. I s'pected they'd do some'at. I know'd it must 
 coom. Chap as breaks the laws has to tek his bit o' 
 punishment. Chaps don't bear no malice. I'm comin' 
 back to work next week. ' 
 
 "Look here," said Uncle Jack, who was a good deal 
 moved by the man's calm patience, "what are we to 
 do to come to terms with the workmen, and have an 
 end to these outrages?" 
 
 "Oh, that's soon done," replied Pannell, rubbing one 
 great muscular arm with his hand, "yow've just got to 
 give up all contrapshions, and use reg'lar old-fashioned 
 steel, and it'll be all right." 
 
 "And would you do this, my man?" said Uncle Jack, 
 looking down at the great muscular fellow before him. 
 
 "Ay, I'd do it for sake o' peace and quiet. I should 
 nivver go agen trade." 
 
 "And you would advise me to give up at the com-
 
 KNOBSTICKED. 249 
 
 mand of a set of ignorant roughs, and make myself 
 their slave instead of master." 
 
 "Mester Jacob," said Pannell, "I can't see a bit wi' 
 this towel round my head; look uppards and downards; 
 any o' the chaps coming?" 
 
 "No," I said. 
 
 "Then look here, Mester, I will speak if I nivver do 
 again. No, I wouldn't give up if I was you, not if 
 they did a hundred worse things than they've done 
 yet. Theer!" 
 
 Uncle Jack looked down on the man, and then said 
 quickly: 
 
 "And you, what will you do?" 
 
 "Get to wuck again, Mester, as soon as I can." 
 
 "And the men who beat you like that?" 
 
 "Eh, what about 'em?" 
 
 "Shall you try and punish them?" 
 
 "Punish 'em, Mester! Why, how can I? They 
 punished me." 
 
 " But you will turn upon them for this, Pannell, will 
 you not?" 
 
 "Nay, Mester; I went again 'em, and they knob- 
 sticked me for it, and it's all done and over. 1 shall 
 soon be back at my stithy, if you'll hev^ me again." 
 
 "Have you! yes, my man, of course," said Uncle 
 Jack. "I wish we could have more like you." 
 
 "Cob," said Uncle Jack as we strode on and got 
 well out into the country, "we've got a very strong 
 confederation to fight, and I do not feel at all hopeful 
 of succeeding; but, there: we've put our hands to the 
 plough, and we can't look back. Now never mind 
 business, let's listen to the birds and enjoy the fresh 
 country air for a time." 
 
 We were going up the valley, passing every now and 
 then "a wheel" as it was called, that is a water-wheel, 
 turning a number of grindstones, the places being 
 remarkably like ours, only that as we got farther out
 
 250 DISCUSSING THE SITUATION. 
 
 the people who ground and forged did their work 
 under the shade of trees, while the birds piped their 
 songs, and air and water were wonderfully diti'erent 
 from M'hat they were about our place on the edge of 
 the great town. 
 
 " Let's get back, Cob," said Uncle Jack despondently. 
 "It makes me miseralile to hear the birds, and see the 
 beauty of the hills and vales, and the sparkling water, 
 and know that men toilincj too-ether in towns can be 
 such ruffians and so full of cruelty to their fellow 
 creatures." 
 
 "And so strong and true and brave and ready to 
 help one another." 
 
 "As who are, Cob?" said my uncle. 
 
 "Well, for want of thinking of anyone else just 
 now," I said, "there's poor Pannell; he saved me, and 
 he has just shown us that he is too faithful to his 
 fellow workmen to betray them." 
 
 Uncle Jack laid his hand upon my shoulder and 
 gave it a hearty grip. 
 
 "You'i-e right, my lad," he said. "You're the better 
 philosopher after all. There's good and bad, and like 
 so many more I think of the bad and overlook the 
 good. But all the same. Cob, I'm very uneasy. These 
 men have a spiteful feeling against you, and we shall 
 not be doing right if we trust you out of our sight 
 again."
 
 CHAPTER XXI, 
 
 TV HAT I CAUGHT AND HEARD 
 
 SHOULD say you will very likely have 
 some sport," said Uncle Dick. "Try by all 
 means." 
 
 "I hardly like to, uncle," I said. 
 
 "Nonsense, my lad! All work and no play makes 
 Jack — I mean Jacob — a dull boy." 
 
 " But it will seem as if I am neglecting my work." 
 
 " By no means. Besides, we shall not be busy for a 
 day or two. Have a few hours' fishing, and I daresay 
 one of us will come and see how you are getting on." 
 
 The opportunity was too tempting to be lost, so 1 
 got a cheap rod and a dear line — a thoroughly good 
 one, asked a gardener just outside to dig up some small 
 red worms for me, and, furnishing myself with some 
 paste and boiled rice, I one morning took my place up 
 at the head of the dam where the stream came in, chose 
 a place where the current whirled round in a deep hole 
 and began fitting my tackle together prior to throw- 
 ing in. 
 
 I had been longing for this trial, for I felt sure that 
 there must be some big fish in the dam. It was quite 
 amongst the houses and factories, but all the same it 
 was deep, there was a constant run of fresh water 
 through it, and I had more than once seen pieces of 
 bread sucked down in a curiously quiet way, as if taken
 
 252 A TRY IN THE DAiL 
 
 by a great slow moving fish, a carp or tench, an old in- 
 habitant of the place. 
 
 Certainly it was not the sort of spot I should have 
 selected for a day's fishing had I been ofl^ered my choice, 
 but it was the best I could obtain then, and I was going 
 to make the most of it. 
 
 I laughed to myself as I thought of the eels, and the 
 great haul I had made down in the wheel-pit, and then 
 I shuddered as I thought of the horrors I had suffered 
 down there, and wondered whether our troubles with 
 the men were pretty well over. 
 
 I hoped so, for from what I heard the business was 
 succeeding beyond the hopes of the most sanguine of 
 my uncles, and if we were left alone success on the 
 whole was assured. 
 
 Of course it was this brilliant prospect that induced 
 them to stay on and dare the perils that lurked around, 
 though, during the past few weeks, everything had 
 been so quiet that once more we were indulging in the 
 hope that the war was at an end. 
 
 In spite of Dr. Johnson's harsh saying about a 
 fisherman, I know of no more satisfactory amusement 
 than is to be found in company with a rod and line. 
 The sport may be bad, but there is the country, the 
 bright sky, the waving trees, the dancing waters, and 
 that delicious feeling of expectation of the finest bite 
 and the biggest fish that never comes but always may. 
 
 I was in this state of expectancy that day. The 
 sport was not good certainly, for the fish I caught 
 were small, but I argued that where there were small 
 fish there must be large, and sooner or later some of 
 the monsters of the dam would see and take my bait. 
 
 I fished till dinner-time, varying my position, and 
 when the bell rang some of the men came and sat on 
 the edge and watched me, chatting civilly enough as 
 they smoked their pipes. 
 
 As luck had it I caught a couple of good-sized silvery
 
 ON THE LEDGE. 253 
 
 roach, and Stevens gave his leg a regular slap as he 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Well if they'd towd me there was fish like that i' 
 th' dam wouldn't hev believed it." 
 
 The bell rang for work to be resumed, and the men 
 slowly moved along the dam edge, Stevens being left, 
 and he stopped to till and light his pipe — so it seemed 
 to me; but as he stooped over it, puffing away large 
 clouds of smoke, 1 heard him say: 
 
 "Don't look. Soon as men's gone in, yow go and 
 stand on ledge close under grinding-shop windows, and 
 see what you catch." 
 
 " It's such an awkward place to get to," I said. " I 
 suppose it's deep, but — " 
 
 " You do what I tell'ee, and don't talk," growled 
 Stevens, and he strolled off with his hands in his 
 pockets after his mates. 
 
 " I shan't go," I said. " It's a very awkward place 
 to get to; the ledge is not above nine inches wide, 
 and if I got hold of a big fish, how am I to land 
 him!" 
 
 The very idea of getting hold of a fish that would 
 be too hard to land was too much for me, and I should 
 have gone to the ledge if it had only been four and a 
 half inches wide. So, waiting to have a few more 
 throws, which were without result, I picked up my 
 basket, walked right round the end of the dam, and 
 then along the top of a narrow wall till I reached the 
 end of the works at the far side, and from there lowered 
 myself gently down on the ledge, along which Pannell 
 had brought me when he rescued me from the wheel- 
 pit, right at the other end, and towards which I was 
 slowly making my way. 
 
 It was slow travelling, and my feet were not above 
 a couple of inches above the water, while the windows 
 of the grinding-shop were about four feet above my 
 head.
 
 254 SLOW WORK. 
 
 I made no special selection, but stopped rig-ht in the 
 middle, just where I imagined that the dam head would 
 be deepest, and softly dropped in my line after setting- 
 down my basket and leaning my back against the 
 stone building. 
 
 As I did so I wished that there had been a place to 
 sit down, but there was of course only just room to 
 stand, and there I was with the water gliding on and 
 over the great wheel a few yards to my left; to my 
 right the windows, out of which poured the black smoke 
 of the forges, and from which came the clink chink of 
 hannner upon anvil, while above me came throbbing 
 and vibrating, screeching and churring, the many varied 
 sounds made by the grinders as they pressed some piece 
 of steel against the swiftly revolving stone, while, in 
 spite of dripping drenching water, the least contact 
 drew from the stone a shower of sparks. 
 
 I fished on, after making a few alterations in the 
 depth of ni}^ bait, finding the water far deeper than I 
 expected. I renewed that bait, too, but no monstrous 
 fish came to take it, to hook itself, and to make a rush 
 and drag me off" my ledge. The sounds buzzed and 
 rattled overhead; there was the echoing plash of the 
 water over the wheel, and the whispering echoes which 
 did not sound at all terrible now, and above all from 
 the windows overhead, in intervals of the grinding, I 
 could hear the men talking very earnestly at times. 
 
 I paid very little heed, for I was interested in my 
 fishing and the water across which the spiders were 
 skating. I wanted a big bite — that big bite — but still 
 it did not come, and I began to wonder whether there 
 were any fish of size in the place. 
 
 " There's every reason why there should be," I 
 thought. Deep clear water fed by the great dam up 
 in the hills, and of course that dam was fed by the 
 mountain streams. This place was all amongst build- 
 ings, and plenty of smuts fell on the surface; in fact
 
 POOR SUCCESS. 255 
 
 the wind used to send a regular black scum floating 
 along to the sides. 
 
 Ploii! 
 
 My heart gave a throb of excitement, for there was 
 a rise evidently made by a big tish over to my right 
 close inshore. 
 
 "Now if I had been there," I thought, "I should have 
 most likely been able to catch that lish and then — " 
 
 Bah! Who wanted to catch a great water-rat that 
 had plumped off the bank into the water? I could see 
 the sleek-coated fellow paddling about close inshore. 
 Then he dived down, and there were a lot of tiny bub- 
 bles to show his course before he went right in under 
 the bank, which was full of holes. 
 
 I could almost fancy I was in the country, for there 
 were a few rushes and some sedgy growth close to 
 where the rat had been busy. Farther off, too, there 
 was the sound that I had heard down in a marshy part 
 of Essex with my uncles, during one of our excursions. 
 "Quack, quack, quack! Wuck, wuck, wuck!" — a duck 
 and a drake just coming down to the water to drink 
 and bathe and feed on the water- weed and snails. 
 
 Yes; it quite put me in mind of the country to have 
 wild ducks coming down to the pool, and — there were 
 the two wild ducks ! One, as the cry had told me, was 
 a drake, and he had once been white, but old age and 
 Arrowfield soot and the dirty little black yard where 
 he generally lived had changed his tint most terribly, 
 and though he plunged in, and bobbed and jerked the 
 water all over his back, and rubbed the sides of his 
 head and his beak all among his feathers, they were 
 past cleaning. 
 
 As to his wife, who expressed herself with a loud 
 quack, instead of sajang %uuck, luuck in more smothered 
 tones, she was possibly quite as dirty as her lord, but 
 being brown the dirt did not show. Her rags did, for 
 a more disreputable bird I never saw, though she, too,
 
 256 I HEAR SOMETHING. 
 
 washed and flapped her wings, and dived and drenched 
 herself before getting out on the bank to preen and 
 beak over her feathers. 
 
 Alas ! as people say in books, it was not the country, 
 but dingy, smoke-bewithered Arrowfield, and I won- 
 dered to myself why a couple of birds with wings 
 should consent to stay amongst factories and works. 
 
 I knew the top of my float by heart; so must that 
 skating spider which had skimmed up to it, running 
 over the top of the water as easily as if it were so 
 much ice. I was growing drowsy and tired. Certainl}^ 
 I leaned my back up against the wall, but it was quite 
 upright, and there was no recompense. Whatever is 
 the use of watching a float that will not bob ? It may 
 be one of the best to be got in a tackle-shop, with a 
 lovely subdivision of the paint — blue at the bottom 
 and white at the top, or green and white, or blue and 
 red, but if it obstinately persists in sitting jauntily 
 cocked up on the top of the water immovable, fishing 
 no longer becomes a srort. 
 
 But I did not fish all that time for nothing. 
 
 As I said, I was becoming drowsy with looking so 
 long at the black cap at the top of my float. Perhaps 
 it was the whirr and hum of the machinery, and the 
 faint sound of plashing water; even the buzz and 
 churr and shriek of the steel upon the fast spinning 
 stones may have had something to do with it. At any 
 rate I was feeling sleepy and stupid, when all at once 
 I was wide awake and listening excitedly, for the 
 shrieking of blade held upon grindstone ceased, and I 
 heard a voice that was perfectly familiar to me say: 
 
 "Tell 'ee what. Do it at once if you like; but If I 
 had my wayer I'd tie lump o' iron fast on to that 
 theer dorg's collar and drop 'im in dam." 
 
 "What good ud that do?" said another voice. 
 
 "Good! why we'd be shut on him." 
 
 *'Ay, but they'd get another."
 
 THE MEN SPEAK OUT. 257 
 
 ^ "Well, they wouldn't get another boy if we got shut 
 o' this one," .said the first voice. 
 
 " But yow wouldn't go so far as to" — 
 
 The man stopped short, and seemed to give his stone 
 a slap witli the blade that he was grinding. 
 
 " I d'know. He's a bad un, and alius at the bottom 
 of it if owt is found out." 
 
 "Ay, but yow mustn't." 
 
 "Well, p'raps I wouldn't then, but I'd do some- 
 thing as would mak him think it were time to go 
 home to his mother." 
 
 My face grew red, then white, I'm sure, for one 
 moment it seemed to burn, the next it felt wet and 
 cold. I did not feel sleepy any longer, but in an in- 
 tense state of excitement, for those words came from 
 the window just above my head, so that I could hear 
 them plainly. 
 
 " It's all nonsense," I said to myself directly after. 
 " They know I'm here, and it's done to scare me." 
 
 Just then the churring and screeching of the grind- 
 ing steel burst out louder than ever, and I determined 
 to go away and treat all I had heard with silent con- 
 tempt. _ Pulling up my line just as a fisher will, I 
 threw in again for one final try, and hardly had the 
 bait reached the bottom before the float bobbed. 
 
 I could not believe it at first. It seemed that I 
 must have jerked the line — but no, there it was again, 
 another bob, and another, and then a series of little 
 bobs, and the float moved slowly off' over the surface, 
 carrying with it a dozen or so of blacks. 
 
 I was a1)0ut to strike, but I thought I would give 
 the fish a little more time and make sure of him, and, 
 forgetting all about the voices overhead, I was watch- 
 ing the float slowly gliding away, bobbing no longer, 
 but with the steady motion that follows if a good fish 
 has taken the bait. 
 
 And what a delight that was! What a reward to 
 
 (322) K
 
 258 WHAT ORDERS? 
 
 my patience! That it was a big one I had no doubt. 
 If it had been a little tish it would have jigged and 
 bobbed the float about in the most absurd way, just as 
 it' the little fish were thoughtless, and in a hurry to be 
 off to play on the surface, whereas a big fish made it a 
 regular business, and was calm and deliberate in every 
 way. 
 
 " Now for it," I thought, and raising the point of the 
 rod slowly I was just going to strike when the grind- 
 ing above my head ceased, and one of the voices I had 
 before heard said: 
 
 " Well, we two have got to go up to the Pointed 
 Star to-night to get our orders, and then we shall know 
 what's what." 
 
 I forgot all about the fish and listened intently. 
 
 " Nay, they can't hear," said the voice again, as if in 
 answer to a warning; "wheels makes too much noise. 
 I don't care if they did. They've had warnings enew. 
 What did they want to coom here for?" 
 
 "Ay," said another, "trade's beginning to feel it 
 a' ready. If we let 'em go on our wives and bairns '11 
 be starving next winter." 
 
 " That's a true word, lad; that's a true word. When 
 d'yow think it'll be?" 
 
 " Ah, that's kept quiet. We shall know soon enew." 
 
 "Ay, when it's done," 
 
 "Think this '11 sattle 'em?" 
 
 "Sattle! Ay, that it will, and pretty well time. 
 They'll go back to Lonnon wi' their tails twix' their 
 legs like the curs they are. Say, think they've got 
 pistols?" 
 
 " Dunno. Sure to hev, ah sud say." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 "Well, s'pose they hev? You aren't the man to be 
 scarred of a pop-gun, are yo'?" 
 
 " I d'know. Mebbe I should be if I hev the wuck 
 to do. I'm scarred o' no man."
 
 STRANGE WORDS. 259 
 
 "But you're scarred of a pistol, eh lad? Well, I 
 wunner at yo'." 
 
 " Well, see what a pistol is." 
 
 "Ay, I know what a pistol is, lad. Man's got a pis- 
 tol, and yo' hit 'im a tap on the knuckles, and he 
 lets it fall. Then he stoops to pick it up, and knob- 
 stick comes down on his head. Nowt like a knobstick, 
 lad, whether it be a man or a bit o' wood. Wants no 
 loading, and is alius safe." 
 
 " Well, all I've got to say is, if I have the wuck to 
 do I shall" — 
 
 Ghurr, churry, screech, and grind. The noise 
 drowned the words I was eager to hear, and I stood 
 bathed with perspiration, and hot and cold in turn. 
 
 That some abominable plot was in hatching I was 
 sure, and in another minute I might have heard some- 
 thing that would have enabled us to be upon our 
 guard; but the opportunity had passed, for the men 
 were workino; harder than ever. 
 
 I was evidently in very bad odour with them, and 
 I thought bitterly of the old proverb about listeners 
 never hearing any good of themselves. 
 
 What should I do — stop and try to hear more? 
 
 Jig, jig, tug, tug at the top of my rod, and I looked 
 down to see that the float was out of sight and the rod 
 nearly touching the water. 
 
 My fisherman's instinct made me strike at once, and 
 in spite of the agitation produced by the words I had 
 heard I was ready for the exciting struggle I expected 
 to follow. I had certainly hooked a fish which strug- 
 gled and tugged to get away; but it was not the great 
 carp or tench I expected to capture, only a miserable 
 little eel which I drew through the water as I walked 
 slowly along the ledge towards the end of the works 
 farthest from the wheel, where I climbed on the wall, 
 and, still dragging my prize, I went right on to the far 
 end, where the water came in from the stream. There
 
 260 GETTING TOO DANGEROUS. 
 
 I crossed the wooden plank that did duty for a bridge, 
 and glanced furtively back at the windows of the works 
 looking out upon the dam. 
 
 As far as I could make out I had not been seen, and 
 I had obtained some very valuable information that 
 might be useful for our protection. 
 
 When I had reached the spot where I had begun 
 fishing I drew in my capture; but it was not a long 
 eel, but a mass of twined-up, snake-like fish which had 
 wreathed itself into a knot with my line. 
 
 To get it free seemed to be impossible, so I cut off 
 the piece of line just above the knot and let it fall into 
 the water to extricate itself, while I went back to the 
 office to have a few words with my uncles about wliat 
 I had heard. 
 
 "I think we are in duty bound to send you liome, 
 Cob," said Uncle Jack, and the others murmured 
 their acquiescence. 
 
 "Send me home!" I cried. "What! just when all 
 the fun is going to begin!" 
 
 "Fun!" said Uncle Dick. "Fun that the frogs 
 suffered when the boys stoned them, eh?" 
 
 " Oh, but you know what I mean, uncle. I don't 
 want to go." 
 
 " But we have run you into terrible risks already," 
 cried Uncle Bob, "and if you were hurt I should feel 
 as if I could never face your father and mother 
 again." 
 
 " Oh, but I slia'n't be hurt," I cried. " There, I'm 
 ready for anything, and shall always try to get on the 
 safe side." 
 
 " As you always do," said Uncle Jack grimly. " No, 
 my boy, you must not stay. It is evident from what 
 you overheard that the men have some design against 
 us on hand. Above all, they have taken a great dis- 
 like to you, and in their blind belief that you are one 
 of the causes of their trouble they evidently feel
 
 I FIGHT FOR POSITION. 261 
 
 spiteful and will not shrink from doing you harm. 
 And that's rather a long-winded speech," he added, 
 smilino-. 
 
 " Can't we make them see that we are working for 
 them instead of against them?" said Uncle Dick. 
 
 " No," said Uncle Bob. ".No one can teach preju- 
 diced workmen. The light comes to them some day, 
 but it takes a long time to get through their dense 
 brains. I think Cob must go." 
 
 "Oh! Uncle Bob," I exclaimed. 
 
 " I can't help it," my lad. " There seems to be no 
 help for it. I shall regret it horribly, for your uncles 
 are very poor company." 
 
 " Thankye," said Uncle Dick. 
 
 " Nice remark from the most stupid of three brothers," 
 grumbled Uncle Jack. 
 
 " But you ought not to be exposed to these risks," 
 continued Uncle Bob, "and now that by your own 
 showing there is something worse on the way," 
 
 " Oh, it can't be worse than it has been ; and besides, 
 the men said I was always the first to find any thing- 
 out. You see I have this time — again." 
 
 " Yes, with a vengeance," said Uncle Jack. 
 
 " And I'm sure you can't spare me." 
 
 " No, we can ill spare you. Cob," said Uncle Dick, 
 " but we should not be doing our duty if we kept you 
 here." 
 
 " Now, uncle," I cried, " I believe if I went home — 
 though, of course, they would be very glad to see me 
 — my father would say I ought to be ashamed of my- 
 self for leaving you three in the lurch." 
 
 "Look here! look here! look here!" cried Uncle 
 Bob. " We can't sit here and be dictated to by this 
 boy. He has run risks enough, and he had better go 
 back to them at once." 
 
 " Oh, 5'ou see if I would have said a word if I had 
 known that you would have served me like this!" I
 
 262 I AM BANTERED. 
 
 cried angrily. " Anyone would think I was a school- 
 girl." 
 
 " Instead of a man of sixteen," said Uncle Bob. 
 
 " Never mind," I cried, " you were sixteen once, 
 Uncle Bob." 
 
 " Quite right, my boy, so I was, and a conceited 
 young rascal I was, almost as cocky as you are." 
 
 " Thank you, uncle." 
 
 " Only I had not been so spoiled by three easy-going, 
 good-natured uncles, who have made you think that 
 you are quite a man." 
 
 " Thank you, uncle," I said again, meaning to be 
 very sarcastic. 
 
 " Instead of a soft stripling full of sap." 
 
 " And not fit to stand against the blows of oak 
 cudgels and the injured Arrowfield workmen," said 
 Uncle Dick. 
 
 "Oh, all right! Banter away," I said. "I don't 
 mind. I shall grow older and stronger and more 
 manly, I ho])e." 
 
 " Exactly," said Uncle Jack; "and that's what we 
 are aiming at for you, my lad. We don't want to see 
 you scorched by an explosion, or hurt by blows, or made 
 nervous by some horrible shock." 
 
 " I don't want to be hurt, of course," I said, " and 
 I'm not at all brave. I was terribly frightened when 
 I found the powder canister, and when I fell in the 
 wheel-pit. I believe I was alarmed when I heard the 
 men talking about what they were going to do; but I 
 should be ashamed of myself, after going through so 
 much, if I ran away, us they said you three would 
 do." 
 
 " How was that?" cried Uncle Bob. 
 
 " With your tails between your legs, regularly fright- 
 ened away like curs." 
 
 "Tliey may carry us to the hospital without a leg 
 to stand upon, or take us somewhere else without
 
 THE QUESTION OF RISK. 263 
 
 heads to think, but they will not see us running away 
 in such a fashion as that," quoth Uncle Dick. 
 
 " Boy," said Uncle Jack, in his sternest way, " I 
 would give anything to keep you with us, but I feel 
 as if it has been a lapse of duty towards you to let 
 you run these risks." 
 
 " But suppose I had been made a midshipman, uncle," 
 I argued, " I should have always been running the risks 
 of the sea, and the foreign climate where I was sent, 
 and of being killed or wounded by the enemy. 
 
 " If there was war," suggested Uncle Bob. 
 
 " Yes, uncle, if there was war." 
 
 "Cob, my lad," said Uncle Dick, "that's a strong 
 argument, but it does not convince us. Your Uncle 
 Jack speaks my feelings exactly. I would give any- 
 thing to keep you with us, for your young elastic 
 nature seems to send off or radiate something bright- 
 ening on to ours; and, now that you are going away, 
 I tell you frankly that your courage has often encour- 
 aged us." 
 
 "Has it, uncle?" I cried. 
 
 " Often, my lad." 
 
 " Ay that it has," said Uncle Jack. " I've often felt 
 down-hearted and ready to throw up our adventure; 
 but I've seen you so fresh and eager, and so ready to 
 fight it out, that I've said to myself — If a boy like that 
 is ready to go on it would be a shame for a man to 
 shrink." 
 
 "Yes," said Uncle Bob, "I confess to the same 
 feeling." 
 
 " Well, that is shabby," I cried 
 
 "What is, boy?" said Uncle Jack. 
 
 " To send me off like this. Why, you'll all break 
 down without me." 
 
 "No, no; that does not follow," said Uncle Bob. 
 
 " Ah, won't it! you'll see," I said. 
 
 "Look here, Cob, be reasonable," exclaimed Uncle
 
 264 UNCLE JACK WASHES HIS HANDS. 
 
 Jack, walking up and down the room in a very excited 
 way. " You see, ever since you were born we've made 
 a sort of playmate of you, and since you grew older, 
 and have been down here with us, you know we have 
 not treated you as if you were a boy." 
 
 " Well, no, uncle, I suppose you have not." 
 
 " We have talked with you, consulted with you, and 
 generally behaved towards you as if you were a young 
 man." 
 
 " And now all at once you turn round and punish 
 me by treating me as if I were a little boy." 
 
 " No, no, my lad; be reasonable. We have been 
 consulting together." 
 
 " Without me." 
 
 "Yes, without you; because we felt that we were 
 not doing you justice — that we were not behaving as 
 good brothers to your mother, in letting you go on 
 sharing these risks." 
 
 " But there may be no more, uncle." 
 
 " But there will be a great many more, my boy," said 
 Uncle Jack solemnly; "and what would our feelings 
 be if some serious accident were to happen to you?" 
 
 " Just the same. Uncle Jack," I cried, " as mine would 
 be, and my father's and mother's, if some accident were 
 to happen to you. 
 
 Uncle Jack wrinkled up his broad forehead, stared 
 hard at me, and then, in a half angry, half amused 
 way, he went to the table, took up an imaginary piece 
 of soap and began to rub it in his palms. 
 
 " I wash my hands of this fellow, boys," he said. 
 "Dick, you are the oldest; take him in hand, dress 
 him down, give him sixpence to buy hardbake and 
 lollipops, and send him about his business." 
 
 " Make it half-a-crown, uncle," I cried, with my 
 cheeks burning with anger; "and then you might buy 
 me a toy-horse too — one with red wafers all over it, 
 and a rabbit-skin tail."
 
 I FIGHT UNCLE DICK. 265 
 
 " My dear Cob," said Uncle Jack, " why will you be 
 so wilfully blind to what is good for you?" 
 
 My cheeks grew hotter, and if I had been alone I 
 should have burst into a passion of tears, but I could 
 not do such a thing then, when I wanted to prove to 
 these three that I was fit to be trusted and too old to 
 be sent home. 
 
 " We do not come to this conclusion without having 
 carefully thought it out, boy," cried Uncle Bob. 
 
 " Very well, then!" I cried, almost beside myself with 
 passion. 
 
 "Confess now," said Uncle Bob; "haven't you often 
 felt very much alarmed at having to keep watch of a 
 night in that lonely factory?" 
 
 " Of course I have." 
 
 "And wished yourself at home?" said Uncle Dick. 
 
 " Scores of times, uncle." 
 
 " Well, then, now we wish you to go, feeling that it 
 is best for you, and you turn restive as that jackass 
 we hired for you to ride down in Essex." 
 
 " Haven't you three fellows been teaching me ever 
 since I was a little tot, to try and be a man?" 
 
 " Yes," said Uncle Dick. 
 
 ''When I've tumbled down and knocked the skin 
 off my knees haven't you said 'Don't cry: be a 
 man! 
 
 " Oh yes ! Guilty ! " said Uncle Dick. 
 
 " If I fell out of the swing didn't you hold your cool 
 hand to the great lump on my head and tell me that I 
 must try to bear it without howling: like a man?" 
 
 " Yes, boy, yes." 
 
 " And when I broke my arm, after getting up the 
 rock after the gulls' eggs, didn't you tell me about the 
 Spartan boys?" 
 
 "I did, Cob, I did." 
 
 " Yes, of course you did," I cried indignantly. "You 
 were all three alike: always teaching me to bear pain
 
 266 UNCLE DICK ASKS FOR THE SOAP. 
 
 and be courageous, and master my natural cowardice 
 and be a man. Now didn't you?" 
 
 "Ay, ay, ay! Captain Cob," they chorused. 
 
 "And here," I cried passionately, "after fighting all 
 these years and making myself miserable so as to do 
 exactly what you all taught me, now that there is a 
 chance of showing that I know my lesson and have 
 done well, you all treat me like a mollycoddle, and 
 say to me by your looks: 'You're a poor cowardly little 
 cub; go home to your mother and be nursed.'" 
 
 "Have you done with the soap?" said Uncle Dick, 
 turning to Uncle Jack, as I stood there, feeling angry, 
 passionate, excited, and carried out of myself. 
 
 " Eh ? " said Uncle Jack staring. 
 
 "I say, have you done with the metaphorical soap? 
 I want to wash my hands of him too.' 
 
 " It's too bad, uncle," I cried. 
 
 " Here, Bob," said Uncle Dick in his grim way, "you 
 take him in hand." 
 
 " No, thank you," said Uncle Bob. "I'll trouble you 
 for the soap when you've done." 
 
 " And now," I cried, speaking to them as I had never 
 done before, "you make worse of it by laughing at me." 
 
 "No, no," cried Uncle Dick; "we were not laughing 
 at you, but we do now;" and starting with a tremen- 
 dous "Ha-ha-ha!" the others joined in, and I stalked 
 out of the parlour and went up to my room, where I 
 set to work, and in about ton minutes had all my 
 belongings carefully packed in my little carpet-bag — 
 the new one that had been bought for me — and the 
 little brass padlock on and locked. 
 
 Just then the parlour door opened as I was looking 
 out of my bed-room window at the smoke and glow 
 over the town, and thinking that after all I liked the 
 noise and dirt and busy toil always going on, knowing, 
 as I di'l, how much it had to do with the greatness of 
 our land.
 
 "tea's ready." 267 
 
 "Cob!" came up Uncle Dick's big voice. 
 
 "Yes, uncle," I said quietly. 
 
 "Tea's ready." 
 
 "I don't want any tea," I said. 
 
 "Yes, you do, lad. Fried ham and eggs." 
 
 "Come," I said to myself, "I'll let them see that I 
 can behave like a man. Perhaps I shall have to go 
 home by the last train to-night or the first in the 
 morning. Poor old Piter," I thought, "I should like to 
 have taken you!" 
 
 So I went down quite coolly and walked into the 
 parlour, where my uncles were waiting for me before 
 seatino- themselves at the table. 
 
 That touched me; it was so full of consideration and 
 respect for the boy they were going to send away. 
 
 Plump, comfortable Mrs. Stephenson was just ready 
 to take off the bright tin dish-cover, and as she did so 
 there was a perfect pile of fried ham and eggs, looking 
 brown and white and pink and orange, and emitting 
 a most appetizing odour. 
 
 "Is Mr. Jacob a bit sadly, gentlemen?" said Mrs. 
 Stephenson, looking at me with interest. 
 
 "Oh no," I said quickly; and a bit touched too by 
 Mrs. Stephenson's respectful way and the Mr. "Only 
 tired. I shall be all right when I've had my tea." 
 
 "That's bonnie," she cried nodding. "I'd better 
 butter a couple more cakes, hadn't I, gentlemen?" 
 
 "That you had," said Uncle Bob. "Let's eat well, 
 or we shall never be able to fight it out with your 
 fellow-townsmen." 
 
 "Ah, deary me, gentlemen," she cried; "it's sore work, 
 that it is! I'm sure if they only knew what I do they'd 
 behave better to you. Them trades is doing more harm 
 than good." 
 
 She bustled out of the room, and as soon as the door 
 was closed Uncle Dick turned to me. 
 
 " Shake hands, Cob, my boy," he said.
 
 268 "WE WANT YOU TO STAY." 
 
 I held mine out frankly, for I had had my say, and 
 I was determined to show them that I could act like a 
 man. 
 
 "Now with me," said Uncle Jack in his hard stern 
 way. 
 
 "And with me," said Uncle Bob. 
 
 I shook hands all round; but in spite of every effort 
 my lip would quiver, and I had to bite it hard to keep 
 down the emotion I felt. 
 
 "Shall I speak?" said Uncle Jack. 
 
 Uncle Dick nodded. 
 
 " Why not wait till after tea?" said Uncle Bob. 
 
 " No, I shall tell him now," said Uncle Jack grimly. 
 "I'm hungry, and we may as well spoil his tea and get 
 his share, for he will not be able to eat after what I've 
 said. Cob, my lad, weVe been talking this over again 
 very seriously. 
 
 " All right, uncle ! " I said quietly. " I'm quite ready 
 to go. I've packed up, but I'd rather go to-morrow 
 morning. I want to go and shake hands with Pannell 
 and bid Piter 'good-bye.'" 
 
 "You have packed up?" he said rather sternly. 
 
 "Yes, uncle." 
 
 "Did you do that in a fit of passion or sulks?" 
 
 " No," I said sharply; "but because I wanted to show 
 you to the very last that I had not forgotten what you 
 tauo-ht me about self-denial and all that." 
 
 "God bless you, my lad!" he cried, hurting me 
 horribly as he shook hands exceedingly hard. "I'm 
 glad to hear you say that, for we've been saying that 
 if we want to win in this fight we can't afford to part 
 with one quarter of the Co. Cob, my lad, we want 
 you to stay." 
 
 " Uncle!" I cried. 
 
 "Yes, my lad, you are older in some things than 
 your years, and though I'd do anything rather than 
 run risks for you, I do feel that with right on our
 
 "hush!" 269 
 
 side, please God, we sliall win yet, and that it would 
 be cowardly for us even to let you turn tail." 
 
 I don't know what I should have said and done 
 then, as Uncle Jack exclaimed: 
 
 " Have I said right, Dick, Bob?" 
 
 "Yes, quite," said Uncle Dick warmly; "and for my 
 part " 
 
 " Hush ! sit down," cried Uncle Bob, hastily setting 
 the exam[)le so as to end the scene. "Yes, two eggs, 
 please. Quick, here's Mrs. Stephenson coming with the 
 cakes." 
 
 ■"^^w^^-
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 STEVENS HAS A WORD WITH ME. 
 
 EXT morninof I went clown to the works, 
 feeling as if I had grown in one night a 
 year older, and after giving Piter the bones 
 I always took him down, and receiving the 
 ram-like butt he always favoured me with to show his 
 gratitude, I was going round the place, when I heard 
 a familiar clinking and saw a glow out of the little 
 smithy that had for some time been cold. 
 
 I ran in, and there, looking rather pale and with a 
 bit or two of sticking-plaster about his temples, was 
 Pannell hanunering away as if he were trying to make 
 up for lost time. 
 
 " Why, Pannell, old man," I cried, running in with 
 outstretched hand, "back again at work! I am glad to 
 see you." 
 
 He looked up at me with a scowl, and wiped his 
 brow with the arm that was terminated by a fist and 
 hannner — a way, I have observed, much affected by 
 smiths. 
 
 His was not a pleasant face, and it was made more 
 repulsive by the scars and sticking-jDlaster. As our 
 eyes met it almost seemed as if he were going to strike 
 me with his hammer; but he threw it down, gave his 
 great liand a rub back and front upon his apron, pro- 
 bably to make it a little blacker, and then gripped 
 
 grippec
 
 THE ADVICE OF UNCLE DICK. 271 
 
 mine as badly as Uncle Jack had on the previous 
 night. In fact, you see, I suffered for people liking 
 rne. 
 
 "Are you glad, mun?" he said at last hoarsely; "are 
 you glad? Well that's cheering anyhow, and thank ye." 
 
 He nodded and went on with his work again while 
 I went to mine about the books, but with a suspicious 
 feeling of impending trouble on my mind, as I passed 
 two of the men who saw me come out of the smithy, 
 and who must have seen me shaking hands with 
 Pannell. 
 
 I don't know why they should have minded, for I 
 should have done the same with either of them had we 
 been on as friendly terms." 
 
 As I entered my little office my eyes lit on the com- 
 mon fishing-rod I had used, and that set me thinking 
 about the conversation I had heard as I stood on the 
 ledge. 
 
 I recalled what had been said overnight in a long 
 discussion with my uncles, and the advice they had 
 given. 
 
 "Don't show suspicion," Uncle Dick had said, "but 
 meet every man with a frank fearless look in the eye, 
 as if you asked no favour of him, were not afraid of 
 him, and as if you wanted to meet him in a straightfor- 
 ward way." 
 
 I thought a good deal about it all, and how my 
 uncles said they meant to be just and kind and stern 
 at the same time; and it certainly did seem as if this 
 was the most likely way to win the men's respect. 
 
 "For now that we have concluded to keep you with 
 us. Cob, I must warn that we mean business, and that 
 we have made up our minds tliat we shall win." 
 
 That morning went off quietly enough, and though 
 we all kept a quiet searching look-out, there was 
 nothing to excite suspicion. Then evening came, and 
 the watching, in which again that night I had no share,
 
 272 PITER AGAIN DRUGGED. 
 
 but it was an understood thinor that I was to be at tlie 
 works at the same time as the men next day. 
 
 It was a lovely autumn morning with the wind 
 from the country side, and as I hurried up and off to 
 the works there was a feeling in the air that seemed 
 to tempt me away to the hills and vales, and made me 
 long for a chano-e. 
 
 " I'll see if one of them won't go for a day," I said 
 to myself; and hopeful of getting the holida}', and per- 
 haps a run up to the great dam, I reached the works 
 before the men. 
 
 "Well done, industrious!" cried Uncle Bob, who 
 opened the gate to me. "You are first." 
 
 "That's right," I said. "No, it isn't. Where's Uncle 
 Dick? Why, you look pale." 
 
 "Uncle Dick isn't awake," he said quickly. "Fact 
 is. Cob, I've had a scare. As you say, I found that 
 they'd been at Piter again. The poor dog has been 
 drugged, and that must mean something wrong." 
 
 Sure enough, poor Piter lay fast asleep and breathing 
 heavily; but after our last experience we did not feel 
 so despondent about bringing him to again, so, leaving 
 him in his kennel where he had crept, we roused Uncle 
 Dick and told him. 
 
 "We can't look round now," he said. "The men are 
 coming in to their work, but we shall soon hear if 
 there is anything wrong. The bands again, I expect." 
 
 Just then we heard the noise made by the drawing 
 of the sluice, the wheel went plashing round, the shaft 
 rumh)leiJ, connections were being made, and in a very 
 few minutes the first grindstone was sending forth its 
 loud churring noise. 
 
 Then there was more and more, and at last the 
 works were in full swinof. 
 
 "There's nothing wrong, then, with the bands," said 
 Uncle Dick; and then we waited, wondering what 
 trick had been played, till about an hour had passed,
 
 I TALK TO PANNELL. 273 
 
 during which the same remedies as were tried before 
 were put into force with poor old Piter, and he re- 
 covered sufficiently to wag- his tail. 
 
 Just about that time Uncle Jack arrived, and was 
 put in possession of our fresh trouble. 
 
 "And you can find nothing wrong?" he said. 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 "Have you looked under the desks, and in the cup- 
 boards?" 
 
 "We've quietly searched everywhere," replied Uncle 
 Bob earnestly. 
 
 "Then we must go on as usual," said Uncle Jack. 
 "There, you two go home: Cob and I wdll chance the 
 risks." 
 
 "It may have been an attempt to get rid of the 
 dog," I said, "and nothing more." 
 
 "That's wdiat I've been thinking," said Uncle Jack; 
 and soon after we were left alone. 
 
 Towards mid-day I went down to have a chat with 
 Pannell, and to ask him how he had got on during his 
 long illness. 
 
 "Tidy," he said sourly. "There was the club helped 
 me, but the mesters did most." 
 
 "What! my uncles?" 
 
 "Ay, didn't you know?" he cried, busying himself 
 about lighting a smaller forge at the back of the first. 
 
 I shook my head. 
 
 "Paid me pound a-week all the time I was badly, 
 my lad." 
 
 "And very kind of them too," I said warmly. 
 
 "Ay, 'twas. Felt at times, lad, as if I warn't worth 
 the money, that I did." 
 
 Just then Stevens made his appearance, crossing 
 from the grinders' shop to one of the smithies at the 
 end; and as he went along at some distance I saw him 
 look curiously over at where I was standing talking to 
 Pannell. 
 
 (322) s
 
 274 STEVENS WANTS A WORD WITH ME. 
 
 "Theer it is again," said the latter. "You mean well, 
 lad, and it's very kind on you; but I shall hev it 'fore 
 lono; on account o' talkino- to thee." 
 
 "Oh, surely not!" I cried angrily. "The men will 
 never be such cowards as to attack you for that." 
 
 " Men weant, but trade will," said Pannell. " Mates 
 can't do as they like about it. Look ye yonder; what 
 did I say?" 
 
 He nodded in the direction of Stevens, who had re- 
 turned directly, stopped opposite the smithy, but at 
 some distance, and as soon as I looked up he began 
 to signal to me to go to him. 
 
 I never liked the man, for he always seemed to dis- 
 like me, and I gave him the credit of being one of the 
 active parties in the outrages that had been committed 
 upon us. But I remembered what our plans were to 
 be — frank, straightforward, and fearless — and I walked 
 right up to Stevens, whose brow was lowering and full 
 of menace. 
 
 " Here, I want a word with you," he said fiercely. 
 
 " All right, Stevens!" I said. " What is it?" 
 
 " Come over here," he replied, " and I'll tell ye." 
 
 He led the way along the yard to the other side of 
 the great coal heap, which lay there massive and square, 
 tlirough its sides being carefully built up with big 
 blocks of coal. 
 
 We were quite out of sight there, and, as I thought, 
 how easy it would be for him to knock me down with 
 one of the lumps. 
 
 I was perfectly cool though, till he suddenly seized 
 me by the jacket. 
 
 I struck up at his hand, but he held on tightly, and 
 there was a curious smile on his face as he said: 
 
 "Nay, you don't, lad; I'm stronger than thou." 
 
 " What do you want ? " I cried, making a virtue of 
 necessity and standing firm. 
 
 "What do I want, eh?" he said slowly. "Oh, just
 
 STEVENS IS STRANGE. 275 
 
 a word or two wi' thee, my lad. There, you needn't 
 call thee uncle." 
 
 " I was not going to call him," I retorted. " Why 
 should I?" 
 
 " Because you're scarred aLout what I'm going to 
 do to thee." 
 
 " No, I'm not," I replied boldly; " because you daren't 
 do anything unless it's in the dark, when you can 
 attack a man behind his back." 
 
 He winced at this and scowled, but turned it off 
 with a laugh. 
 
 '"Tack a what?" he said. 
 
 "A boy, then," I cried. " I know I'm a boy; but I 
 meant people generally." 
 
 "Nivver you mind that," he said. "You don't un- 
 derstand trade. But joost you look there. Yow've 
 been saying I did some'at to the dog." 
 
 " That I have not," I cried. 
 
 " Ay, but you did say it," he repeated fiercely. 
 
 "I did not say so," I cried almost as angrily; "but 
 if I had said it, I don't suppose I should have been far 
 wrong." 
 
 " Nay, lad, I did nowt to the dog. I did nowt — I — " 
 
 He let his hand fall, and a feeling of relief from some 
 expectation came over his face. He had been talking 
 to me, but it was in a curious way, and all the time 
 he talked he seemed to be looking over my shoulder 
 more than in my face. 
 
 But now he drew a long breath and seemed satisfied 
 with the explanation; and just then I uttered a cry of 
 horror, for there was a loud report, and the yard seemed 
 to be filled with flying cinders and smoke. 
 
 Stevens gave me a grim look and laid his hand on 
 my shoulder. 
 
 " Lucky yow weern't theer," he said. " Might have 
 been hurt. Come and see." 
 
 We joined the men who were hurrying in the
 
 276 AN EXPLOSION. 
 
 direction of the smoke that obscured one end of the 
 yard. 
 
 " What is it, Uncle Jack ?" I cried, as I ran to his side. 
 
 " I don't know yet," he said. 
 
 " It was somewhere by the smithies. 
 
 " Yes ; that's plain enough," said my uncle, and we 
 pressed on in front of the men, to come upon Pannell, 
 bending down and rubbing his eyes. 
 
 "Pannell!" I cried; "you are not hurt?" 
 
 " Nay, not much," he said sourly. " Got the cinder 
 and stutf in my eyes, but they missed me this time." 
 
 "What! was it not an accident?" 
 
 " Oh, ay!" he replied; "reg'lar accident. Powder got 
 into my little forge, and when I started her wi' some 
 hot coal from t'other one she blew up." 
 
 " But you are not hurt?" 
 
 " Nay, lad, I weer stooping down, and were half 
 behind the forge, so I didn't ketch it that time." 
 
 The smoke was by this time pretty well' cleared 
 away, and we walked into the smithy to see what 
 mischief had befallen us. 
 
 Fortunately no harm had been done to the structure 
 of the building, and there being no glass in the win- 
 dows there was of course none to blow out. The coal 
 ashes and cinders had been scattered far and wide, and 
 the iron funnel-shaped chimney knocked out of place, 
 while some of the smiths' tools, and the rods of steel 
 upon which Pannell had been working, were thrown 
 upon the floor. 
 
 The walls, forge, and pieces of iron about told tales 
 for themselves without the odour of the explosive, for 
 everything had been covered with a film of a grayish- 
 white, such as gunpowder gives to iron or brickwork 
 when it is fired. 
 
 "Where was the powder?" cried Uncle Jack, after 
 satisfying himself that Pannell had not the slightest 
 burn even upon his beard.
 
 FKLLOW- WORKMEN OR THE TRADE, 277 
 
 " In little forge all ready for me when I fired up," 
 growled Panncll sourly, as he scowled round at the 
 little crowd of men; "but they missed me that time." 
 
 Uncle Jack had a good look round the place, and 
 the workmen stared at us as if in full expectation of 
 being taken to task as the cause of the explosion. 
 
 I watched their faces cautiously in search of a look 
 of regret, but the ouly peculiar expression I could see 
 was on the countenance of Stevens, who stood softly 
 rolling- up his shirt-sleeves closer and closer to his 
 shoulders, and there was such a curious smile in his 
 eyes that he inspired me with a thought. 
 
 " Oh, if I have been deceived in him ! " 
 
 That was my thought. For I seemed to see at a 
 glance that he had known the explosion would take 
 place, and that the talk aliout the dog was an ex- 
 cuse to get me away and save me from the conse- 
 quences. 
 
 Just then Uncle Jack turned round to me and laid 
 his hand on my shoulder. 
 
 " Look here," he said quietly, as if he were showing 
 me a curiosity, but loud enough for all the men to hear 
 — " down in the south of England, my boy, when a 
 workman is disliked it generally comes to a settlement 
 with fists, and there is a fair, honest, stand-up fight. 
 Down here in Arrowfield, Jacob, when another work- 
 man does somethino- to ofi'end his fellows — " 
 
 " Traiide," shouted a voice. 
 
 "To offend his fellow -workmen," repeated Uncle 
 Jack. 
 
 " Traiide," shouted the voice again, and there was a 
 murmur of assent. 
 
 "Well, have it your own way," said Uncle Jack. 
 " To offend the trade, they try to blind him for life 
 by filling his forge with powder, so that it may ex- 
 plode in his face. Jacob, my lad, next time I go any- 
 where, and hear people talk about what brave strong
 
 278 PANNELL IS A MAN. 
 
 manly fellows the Englishmen are, I shall recommend 
 them to come down and stay in Arrowfield for a month 
 and see what is done." 
 
 There was a low murmur among the men; but we 
 did not stop to listen, and they all returned to their 
 work except Pannell, who went down to the dam and 
 bathed his eyes, after which he went as coolly as could 
 be back to his smithy, took a shovel and borrowed 
 some glowing fire from the next forge, lit up his own, 
 and was soon after hammering his funnel chimney 
 back in its place, and working up rods of steel as if 
 nothinu' whatever had been amiss. 
 
 About the middle of the afternoon, though, he came 
 up through the workshop straight to the office, with 
 his hammer in his hand, and gave a loud thump at the 
 door. 
 
 I opened it and admitted him; for I was in the big- 
 office with my uncles, who were talking about this last 
 trouble. 
 
 "Well, my man, what is it?" said Uncle Jack. 
 
 Pannell began to lift up his hammer-head slowly 
 and let it fall back again into his left hand, staring 
 straight before him with his dark eyes, which were 
 surrounded with the black marks of the gunpowder 
 which clun^ still to the skin. 
 
 "What do you want, Pannell?" I said, giving him a 
 touch on the arm; but the hammer rose and fell still 
 by the contraction of his right hand, and went on tap 
 — tap — falling into his left. 
 
 "Why don't you speak?" I said again, quite im- 
 patiently. 
 
 " I know," he growled. " I want to speak." 
 
 "We are listening," said Uncle Dick. "What have 
 you to say?" 
 
 " Look here," cried Pannell, giving his hammer a 
 flourish round his head as if he were about to attack 
 us. " Pm a man — I am."
 
 PANNELL SPEAKS OUT. 279 
 
 "And a good big one, Pannell/' said Uncle Bob 
 smilincf, 
 
 " Wish I were twyste as big, mester! Theer!" cried 
 Pannell. 
 
 " I wish yon were if it would be any comfort to 
 you," said Uncle Bob to himself. 
 
 " I've been athinking o' this out while I've been 
 hammering yonder, and I want to speak." 
 
 "Yes," said Uncle Jack. " Go on." 
 
 " Look ye here, then," cried Pannell, flourishing his 
 hammer round as if he were a modern edition of an 
 angry Thor; "does anyone say I telled on 'em? Did I 
 tell on 'em, mesters? Answer me that." 
 
 "What! about the outrages?" said Uncle Dick firmly. 
 
 "Outrages, mester!" 
 
 "Well, the attempts to blow us up." - 
 
 "Ay! — the trade business. Did I ivver come and 
 say word to anny of you?" 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " Or to yow, youngster?" 
 
 " Never, Pannell. You always went against us," I 
 said, " when a word from you would—" 
 
 "Theer, that'll do. Tell me this — Did I ivver tell 
 on anny on 'em ? " 
 
 "No; you have always been true to your party, 
 Pannell — if that is what you mean." 
 
 "And that is what I mean," said the great fellow, 
 throwing his head about and jerking out his words, 
 each with a menacing flourish of the hammer or a 
 mock blow, as if they were steel words that he wanted 
 to strike into shape. 
 
 " Nobody accused you of talebearing to us," said 
 Uncle Dick. 
 
 "Didn't they, mester?" he roared, "What's this, 
 then, and this, and this?" 
 
 He touched the scars upon his head and brow, and 
 the sticking-plaster left on.
 
 280 DONE WITH THEM. 
 
 "Don't you call that saying I telled on 'em, wi'out 
 the poother in my forge this morning?" 
 
 "A cowardly brutal thing to have done, my man." 
 
 "Ay, so 'twas. I'd done nowt but be civil to young 
 mester here. Say," he cried fiercely, " yow telled 'em 
 I forged that trap!" and he turned on me. 
 
 "Oh, Pannell!" I cried, Hushing indignantly. 
 
 That was all I said, but it was enouo-h. 
 
 "Beg pardon, young gentleman! — yow didn't, I can 
 see that. Nay, it was the altogetherishness o' the whole 
 thing. They set me down — me, a mate in the union- — 
 as hevvin' telled on 'em and gone agen 'em, and being 
 friends wi' the mesters; and yow see what they've 
 done." 
 
 " Indeed we do, Pannell — " 
 
 "Howd hard, mester," said the big smith, flourishing 
 about his hammer. " I hevn't had my spell yet. I 
 want to speak." 
 
 Uncle Dick nodded, as much as to say, " Go on." 
 
 "Look here, then, mesters — I've thowt this out. It's 
 cowards' business, ivvery bit on it, 'cept Matt Stivvins 
 this morning coming and fetching young mester out of 
 the way." 
 
 " Yes," I .said, " he did." 
 
 "And they'll knobstick 'im for it if they know — see 
 if tliey don't!" 
 
 "Then they mustn't know," I cried eagerly. "I 
 don't like Stevens, but he did save me this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 "Ay, he did, 'cause he said once yow weer a trump, 
 my lad; but he didn't give me a word. I sha'n't tell 
 on him, but I sha'n't hev nought more to do wi' anny 
 on 'em. I've been union man all these years and paid, 
 and here's what I've got for it. I says to mysen, I 
 .says: If this here's what comes o' sticking to union 
 through all their games I've done wi' 'em, and I'm a 
 master's man — that's all."
 
 A FRIENDLY SQUEEZE. 281 
 
 He turned short round to go, but Uncle Dick stopped 
 him. 
 
 " I don't quite understand what you mean, Pannell." 
 
 "What I mean! Why, what I said — that's what I 
 mean." 
 
 " That you have done with the trades-union, Pan- 
 nell," I cried, "and mean to he on our side?" 
 
 " That's so, mester. Now I mun go or my fire '11 be 
 out." 
 
 He strode out of the place and banged the door after 
 him; and as he went along the shop I could see him 
 in imagination staring deliantly from side to side, in 
 answer to the savaoe murmur that greeted- him from 
 the men whom he had made up his mind to defy. 
 
 "What do you think of that?" said Uncle Dick, as 
 soon as we heard the farther door close with a crash. 
 
 "It's the beginning of the end," said Uncle Jack 
 with an eager look in his eyes. Keep firm, boys, and 
 we shall have them all honestly on our side, and we 
 can laugh at all trades-unions in Arrowfield that fight 
 with cowardly weapons. The men do not do what 
 their own feelings prompt, but obey the law of a secret 
 society which forces them to do these cruel wrongs." 
 
 It must have been intentional on his part, for as I 
 went down into the furnace house about half an hour 
 after, at my usual time, to take down an account of 
 work done, I met Stevens coming towards me. 
 
 We were in the big empty building, the furnace 
 being cold, and no work going on that day, and he 
 slouched towards me as if he were going by, but I 
 stopped him and held out my hand. 
 
 "Thank you, Stevens," 1 said. "I didn't under- 
 stand it then, but you saved me from something ter- 
 rible to-day." 
 
 He gave a quick glance or two about, and then 
 regnlai'ly snatched my hand, gave it a squeeze, and 
 threw it away.
 
 282 "ALL right!" 
 
 "All right, my lad!" he said in a hoarse whisper, 
 " You're on'y one o' the mesters, but I couldn't abear 
 to see thee in for it too." 
 
 He went on his away and I went mine, feeling that 
 Uncle Jack was right, and that though it might be a 
 long journey first, it was the beginning of the end. 
 
 ■^^=Ym^^ 

 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 I START FOR A WALK. 
 
 HO'S for a walk?" said Uncle Dick one 
 morning. " I'm going up the hills to the 
 millstone-grit quarry." 
 I started, and my heart gave a throb, but 
 I did not look up. 
 
 " I can't go," said Uncle Jack. 
 
 " And I'm busy," said Uncle Bob. 
 
 " Then I shall have to put up with Cob," said Uncle 
 Dick gloomily. "Will you come, my lad?" 
 
 "Will I come!" I cried, jumping and feeling as if I 
 should like to shout for joy, so delightful seemed the 
 idea of getting away into the hills, and having one of 
 our old walks. 
 
 " Well, it must be at midday, and you will have to 
 meet me out at Ranflitt." 
 
 " Two miles on the road?" I said. 
 
 " Yes ; you be there, and if I'm not waiting I sha'n't 
 be long, and we'll go on together." 
 
 "What time shall I start?" I asked. 
 
 " When the men go to their dinner will do. I have 
 some business at the far end of the town, and it will 
 not be worth while for me to come back. I'll take 
 the other road." 
 
 So it was settled, and I took my big stick down to 
 the office, and a net satchel that was handy for any-
 
 284 I AM PELTED. 
 
 thinw when slunfj froir the ricjht shoulder and under 
 my left arm. Before now it had carried fish, part- 
 ritlges, fruits, herbs, roots of plants, and oftener than 
 anything else, lunch. 
 
 That seemed to be a long mornincr altliouo;h I wrote 
 hard all the time so as to get a good day's work 
 over first; but at last the dinner-bell rang, and, saying 
 good-bye to the others, I slipped the satchel into my 
 pocket, took my stick, and started. 
 
 We had not thou<^ht of those who would be loiter- 
 ing about during their dimier-hour, but I soon found 
 that they were thinking of me, for not only were our 
 own men about the streets, but the men of the many 
 other works around; and to my dismay I soon found 
 that they all knew me by sight, and that they were 
 ready to take notice of me in a very unpleasant 
 way. 
 
 I was walking steadily on when a stone hit me in 
 the lesf, and instead of makinLi; haste and gettincr out 
 of range, I stopped short and looked round angrily for 
 my assailant. 
 
 I could see a dozen grinning faces, but it was of 
 course impossible to tell who threw, and before I 
 turned back an oyster-shell struck me in the back. 
 
 I turned round angrily and found myself the object 
 of a tremendous shout of laughter. 
 
 Almost at the same moment I was struck by an old 
 cabbage-stump and by a potato, while stones in plenty 
 flew by my head. 
 
 " The cowards!" I said to myself as I strode on, look- 
 ing to right and left, and seeing that on both sides of 
 the way a number of rough boys were collecting, en- 
 couraged by the laughter and cheers of their elders. 
 
 We had not a single boy at our works, but I could 
 see several of our men were joining in the sport, to 
 them, of having me hunted. 
 
 To have a good hunt, though, it is necessary to have
 
 I CHARGE. 285 
 
 a good quarry, that is to say, the object hunted must 
 be something that will run. 
 
 Now, in imagination I saw myself rushing away 
 pursued by a mob of lads, hooting, yelling, and pelting 
 me; but I felt not the slightest inclination to be 
 hunted in this fashion, and hence it was that I w^alked 
 steadily and watchfully on, stick in hand, and pre- 
 pared to use it too, if the necessity arose. 
 
 Unfortunately I was in a road where missiles were 
 plentiful, and these came flying about me, one every 
 now and then giving me such a stinging blow that 
 I winced with pain. The boys danced round me, too, 
 coming nearer as they grew bolder from my non-resis- 
 tance, and before long they began to make rushes, 
 hooting and yelling to startle me, no doubt, into 
 running away. 
 
 But so far they did not succeed; and as I continued 
 my w-alking they changed their tactics, keeping out of 
 reach of my stout stick, and taking to stones and any- 
 thing that came to hand. 
 
 I could do nothing. To have turned round would 
 only have been to receive the objects thrown in my 
 face; and when at last, stung into action by a harder 
 blow than usual, I did turn and make a rush at the 
 boy I believed to have thrown, he gave way and the 
 others opened out to let me pass, and then closed up 
 and followed. 
 
 It was a foolish movement on my part, and I found 
 I had lost ground, for to get on my way again I had 
 to pass through a body of about a dozen lads, and the 
 only way to do this as they gathered themselves ready 
 to receive me, was by making a bold rush through 
 them. 
 
 They were already whispering together, and one of 
 them cried "Now!" when I made a rush at them, stick 
 in hand, running as fast as I could. 
 
 They made a show of stopping me, but opened out
 
 286 HUNTED, 
 
 directly, and as soon as I had passed yelled to their 
 companions to come on, with the result that I found I 
 could not stop unless I stood at bay, and that I was 
 doing the very thing I had determined not to do — 
 racing away from my pursuers, who, in a pack of 
 about forty, were yelling, crying, and in full chase. 
 
 To stop now was impossible: all that was open to 
 me was to run hard and get into the more open suburb, 
 leaving them behind, while I had the satisfaction of 
 knowinjx that before long the bells at the different 
 works would be ringing, and the young vagabonds 
 obliged to hurry back to their places, leaving me free 
 to maintain my course. 
 
 So that, now I was involuntarily started, I deter- 
 mined to leave my pursuers Ijehind, and I ran. 
 
 I don't think I ever ran so fast before, but fast as I 
 ran I soon found that several of the lightly clothed old 
 looking lads were more than my equals, and they kept 
 so close that some half a dozen were ready to rush in 
 on me at any moment and seize me and drag me 
 back. 
 
 I was determined, though, that they should not do 
 that, and, grasping my stick, I ran on, more blindly, 
 though, each moment. 'Tis true, 1 thought of making 
 for the outskirts and tiring the boys out; but to my 
 dismay I found that fresh lads kept joining in the 
 chase, all eatrer and delighted to have something to run 
 down and buffet, wliile my breath was coming tliickly, 
 my heart beat faster and faster, and there was a terrible 
 burning sensation in my chest. 
 
 I looked to right for some means of escape, but 
 there was none; to left was the same; behind me the 
 yelling pack; while before me stretched the lanes, and 
 mill after mill with great dams beyond them similar 
 to ours. 
 
 I should have stopped at bay, hoping by facing the 
 lads to keep them off; but I was streaming with per-
 
 A RISKY PLACE. 287 
 
 spiration, and so weak that I knew, in spite of my 
 excitement, that I should hardly be able to lift my 
 arm. 
 
 On and on, more and more blindly, feeling moment 
 by moment as if my aching legs would give way beneath 
 me. I gazed wildly at my pursuers to ask for a little 
 mercy, but unfortunately for me they, excited and hot 
 with their chase, were as cruel as boys can be, and men 
 too at such a time. 
 
 There was nothing for it but to rush on at a pace 
 that was fast degenerating into a staggering trot, and 
 in imagination, as the boys pushed me and buffeted me 
 with their caps, I saw myself tripped up, thrown down, 
 kicked, and rolled in the dust, and so much exhausted 
 that I could not help myself. 
 
 One chance gave me a little more energy. It must 
 be nearly time for the bells to ring, and then they 
 would be bound to give up the pursuit; but as I 
 struggled I caught sight of a clock, and saw that it 
 wanted a quarter of an hour yet. 
 
 There were some men lounging against a wall, and I 
 cried out to them, but they hardly turned their heads, 
 and as I was hurried and driven by I saw that they 
 only laughed as if this were excellent sport. 
 
 Next we passed a couple of well-dressed ladies, but 
 they fled into a gateway to avoid my pursuers, and 
 the next minute I was hustled round a corner, the 
 centre of the whooping, laughing crowd, and, to my 
 horror, I found that we were in a narrow path with a 
 row of stone cottages on one side, the wall of a dam 
 like our own, and only a few inches above the water 
 on the other. 
 
 I had felt dazed and confused before. Now I saw 
 my danger clearly enough and the object of the lads. 
 
 I was streaming with perspiration, and so weak that 
 I could hardly stand, but, to avoid being thrust in, and 
 perhaps held under water and ducked and butieted
 
 288 AT BAY. 
 
 over and over again, I felt that I must make a plunge 
 and try and swim to the other side. 
 
 But I dared not attempt it, even if I could have got 
 clear; and blindly struggling on I had about reached 
 the middle of the dam path when a foot was thrust 
 out, and I fell. 
 
 Sobbing for my breath, beaten with fists, buffeted 
 and blinded with the blows of the young savages' caps, 
 I struggled to my feet once more, but only to be tripped 
 an<l to fall again on the rough stony path. 
 
 I could do no more. I had no strength to move, but 
 I could think acutely, and feel, a^ I longed for the 
 strength of Uncle Jack, and to hold in my hand a good 
 stout but limber cane. 
 
 Yes, I could feel plainly enough the young ruffians 
 dragging at me, and in their eagerness and number 
 fighting one against the other. 
 
 "In wi' him!" 
 
 "Dook him, lads!" 
 
 "Now, then, all together!" 
 
 I heard all these cries mingled together, and mixed 
 up w^ith the busy hands and faces, I seemed to see the 
 row of houses, the clear sky, the waters of the dam, 
 and Gentles the grinder leaning against a door and 
 looking on. 
 
 I was being lifted amidst shouts and laucjhter, and 
 I knew that the next moment I should be in the dam, 
 when there was a tremendous splash, and some drops 
 of water sprinkled my face. 
 
 Then there was the rattle of the handle of a bucket, 
 and another splash heard above all the yelling and 
 shouting of the boys. There was the hollow sound of 
 a pail banged against something hard, and mingled 
 with cries, shouts, laughter, and ejaculations of pain 
 I felt myself fall upon the path, to be kicked and 
 trampled on by someone contending, for there were 
 slaps, and thuds, and blows, the panting and hissing of
 
 JANE GENTLES. 289 
 
 breath; and then the clanging of bells near and bells 
 far, buzzing in ears, the rush and scuttling of feet, with 
 shouts of derision, defiance, and laughter, and then, last 
 of all, a curious cloud of mist seemed to close me in 
 like the fog on the Dome Tor, and out of this a shrill 
 angry voice cried: 
 
 "Ah, ye may shout, but some on ye got it. Go 
 and dry yourselves at the furnace, you cowardly 
 young shacks. Hey, bud I wish I'd hed holt o' yon 
 stick r 
 
 " Yon stick!" I felt must be mine; but my head was 
 aching, and I seemed to go to sleep. 
 
 " I wish you'd be quiet," I remember saying. " Let 
 me be." 
 
 " Fetch some more watter, mester," said a pleasant 
 voice, and a rough hand was laid upon my forehead, 
 but only to be taken away again, and that which had 
 vexed and irritated me went on again, and in a dreamy 
 way I knew it was a sponge that was being passed over 
 my face. 
 
 "I fetched Mester Tom one wi' bottom o' the boocket, 
 and I got one kick at Tom, and when the two boys 
 come home to-night they'll get such a leathering as 
 they never hed before." 
 
 " Nay, let 'em be," said a familiar voice. 
 
 " Let 'em be ! D'ye think I'm going to he v my bairns 
 grow up such shacks? Nay, that I wean't, so yo may 
 like it or no. I'd be shamed o' my sen to stand by 
 and let that pack o' boys half kill the young gentleman 
 like that." 
 
 " I warn't going to stop 'em." 
 
 " Not you, mester. Yow'd sooner set 'em on, like 
 you do your mates, and nice things come on it wi' your 
 strikes and powder, and your wife and bairns wi' empty 
 cupboard. Yow on'y let me know o' next meeting, and 
 if I don't come and give the men a bit o' my mind, my 
 name arn't Jane Gentles." 
 
 (322) T
 
 290 MY RESCUER. 
 
 " Yow'd best keep thy tongue still." 
 
 " Mebbe you think so, my man, but I don't." 
 
 My senses had come back, and I was staring about 
 at the clean kitchen I was in, with carefully black- 
 leaded grate and red -brick floor. Against the open 
 door, looking out upon the dam, and smoking his pipe, 
 stood — there was no mistaking him — our late man. 
 Gentles; while over me with a sponge in her hand, and 
 a basin of water by her on a chair, was a big broad- 
 shouldered woman with great bare arms and a pleasant 
 homely face, whose dark hair was neatly kept and 
 streaked with gray. 
 
 She saw that I was coming to, and smiled down at 
 me, showing a set of very white teeth, and her plump 
 face looked motherly and pleasant as she bent down 
 and laid her hand upon my forehead. 
 
 " That's bonny," she said, nodding her head at me. 
 " You lie still a bit and I'll mak you a cup o' tea, and 
 yo'll be aw reight again. I'm glad I caught 'em at it. 
 Some on 'em's going to hev sore bones for that job, and 
 so I tell 'em." 
 
 I took her hand and held it in mine, feeling very 
 weak and dreamy still, and I saw Gentles shift round 
 and give me a hasty glance, and tlien twist himself 
 more round with his back to me. 
 
 " Howd up a minute," she said, passing one strong- 
 arm under me and lifting me as if I had been a baby; 
 and almost before I had realized it she slipped oil" my 
 jacket and placed a cushion beneath my head. 
 
 "There, now, lie still," she said, dabbing my w^et 
 hair with a towel. " Go to sleep if you can." 
 
 By this time she was at the other end of the common 
 print-covered .couch on which I lay and unlacing my 
 boots, which she drew off. 
 
 " There, now thou'lt be easy, my lad. What would 
 thy poor moother say if she saw thee this how?" 
 
 I wanted to thank her, but I was too dreamy and
 
 A FEW WOllDS. 291 
 
 exhausted to speak; but I had a strange feeling of 
 dread, and that was, that if I were left alone with 
 Gentles he would, out of revenge, lay hold of me and 
 throw me into the dam, and to strengthen my fancy I 
 saw him keep turning his head in a furtive way to 
 glance at me. 
 
 " Here," exclaimed the woman sharply, " take these 
 here boots out to the back, mester, and clean 'em while 
 I brush his coat." 
 
 "Eh?" said Gentles. 
 
 " Tak them boots out and brush 'em. Are yo' 
 deaf?" 
 
 " Nay, I'm not going to clean his boots," growled 
 Gentles. 
 
 "Not going to clean the bairn's boots!" said the 
 woman sharply; "but I think thou art." 
 
 She left me, went to the door, took Gentles' pipe 
 from his mouth, and then thrust the boots under his 
 arm, laying a great hand upon his shoulder directly 
 after, and seeming to lead him to a door behind me, 
 through which she pushed him, with an order to make 
 haste. 
 
 " Yes," she said, tightening her lips, and smiling, as 
 she nodded to me, " I'm mester here, and they hev to 
 mind. Was it thou as set the big trap ketched my 
 mester by the leg?" 
 
 I never felt more taken aback in my life; but I 
 
 spoke out boldly, and said that it was I. 
 
 "And sarve him rioht. Be a lesson to him. Mixing 
 
 . . . . ^ 
 
 himself up wi' such business. I towd him if he crep 
 
 into people's places o' neets, when he owt to hev been 
 
 fast asleep i' bed wi' his wife and bairns, he must 
 
 reckon on being ketched like a rat. I'd like to knock 
 
 some o' their heads together, I would. They're alius 
 
 feitin' agen the mesters, and generally for nowt, and 
 
 it's ooz as has to suffer." 
 
 Mrs. Gentles had told me to try and sleep, and
 
 292 MY BOOTS ARE CLEANED. 
 
 she meant well; but there were two things which, 
 had I been so disposed, would thoroughly have pre- 
 vented it, and they were the dread ot" Gentles doing- 
 something to be revenged upon me, and his wife's 
 tongue. 
 
 For she went on chattering away to me in the most 
 confidential manner, busying herself all the time in 
 brushing my dusty jacket on a very white three-legged 
 table, after giving the cloth a preliminary beating 
 outside. 
 
 " There," she said, hanging it on a chair; "by and 
 by you shall get up and brush your hair, and I'll give 
 you a brush down, and then with clean boots you will 
 not be so very much the worse." 
 
 She then sat down to some needlework, stitchincj 
 away busily, and giving me all sorts of information 
 about her family — how she had two boys out at work 
 at Bandy's, taking it for granted that I knew who 
 Bandy's were; that she had her eldest girl in service, 
 and the next helping her aunt Betsey, and the other 
 four were at school. 
 
 All of which was, no doubt, very interesting to her; 
 but the only part that took my attention was about 
 her two boys, who had, I knew, from what I over- 
 heard, been in the pack that had so cruelly hunted me 
 down. 
 
 And all this while I could hear the slow brush, brush 
 at my boots, evidently outside the back-door, and I 
 half expected to have them brought back ripped, or 
 with something sharp inside to injure me when I put 
 them on. 
 
 At last, after Mrs. Gentles had made several allusions 
 to how long " the mester " was " wi' they boots," he came 
 in, limping slightly, and after closing the door dropped 
 them on the brick floor. 
 
 "Why, Sam!" exclaimed Mrs. Gentles, "I'd be 
 ashamed o' mysen — that I would!"
 
 A GOOD WIFE. 293 
 
 But Gentles did not seem to be in the slightest degree 
 ashamed of hiinself, but took his pipe from the shelf, 
 where his wife had laid it, struck a match, relit it, and 
 went off with his hands in his pockets, 
 
 Mrs. Gentles rose and followed him to the door, and 
 then returned, with her lips tightened and an angry 
 look in her face. 
 
 " Now he's gone off to booblic," she said angrily, " to 
 hatch up and mess about and contrive all sorts o' mis- 
 chief wi' them as leads him on. Oh the times I've 
 telled him as they might make up all the differ by 
 spending the time in work that they do in striking 
 again' a sixpence took off or to get one putt on! Ay, 
 but we missuses have but a sorry time!" 
 
 The absence of Gentles' furtive look sent back at 
 me from the door seemed to change the effect of his 
 wife's voice, which by degrees grew soothing and soft, 
 and soon after 1 dropped off asleep, and dreamed of a 
 curious clinking going on, from which dream I awoke, 
 with my head cooler, and Mrs. Gentles bending over 
 me and fanning my face with what looked like an old 
 copy-book. 
 
 I looked at her wonderingly. 
 
 " That's better," she said. " Now set up and I'll help 
 thee dress; and here's a nice cup of tea ready." 
 
 " Oh, thank you !" I said. " What time is it?" 
 
 " Close upon five, and I thowt you'd be better now 
 after some tea." 
 
 She helped me on with my jacket, and I winced 
 with pain, I was so stiff and sore. After this she in- 
 sisted upon putting on my boots. 
 
 " Just as if I heven't done such things hundreds of 
 times," she said cheerfully. " Why, I used to put on 
 the mester's and tak 'em off all the time his leg was 
 bad." 
 
 "I'm sorry I set that trap," I said, looking up at 
 her rough, pleasant face, and wondering how such a
 
 294 A DISCUSSION AT HOME. 
 
 sneaking, malignant fellow could have won so good a 
 wife. 
 
 " I'm not," she said laughing. " It sarved him right, 
 so say no more about it." 
 
 That tea was like nectar, and seemed to clear my 
 head, so that I felt nearly recovered save when I tried 
 to rise, and then I was in a good deal of pain. But I 
 deemed myself equal to going, and was about to start 
 when I missed my cap. 
 
 "Hey, but that'll be gone," she said. "Oh, they 
 boys! Well, yow must hev Dick's." 
 
 Before I could protest she went upstairs, and re- 
 turned with a decent-looking cap, which I promised to 
 return, and then, bidding my Samaritan-like hostess 
 good-bye, I walked firmly out of her sight, and then 
 literally began to hobble, and was glad as soon as I 
 could get into the main road to hail one of the town 
 cabs and be driven home, not feeling strong enough to 
 go to the works and tell of my mishap. 
 
 Mr. Tomplin came in that evening after Uncle Dick 
 had heard all my narrative and Uncle Bob had walked 
 up and down the room, driving his fist into his hand 
 every now and then with a loud 2^<^t. 
 
 We had had a long conversation, in which I had 
 taken part with a terribly aching head, and I should 
 have gone to bed only I would not show the white- 
 feather. 
 
 For they all three made this a reason why I should 
 give up to them, and after all go back. 
 
 " You see the men are dead against us. Cob, and the 
 boys follow suit, and are against you." So said Uncle 
 Dick. 
 
 "All the men are not against you," I said. " Look 
 at Pannell! He has come round, and," I added, with 
 a laugh that hurt me horribly, " I shall have some of 
 the Vjoys come round and help me." 
 
 "The young scoundrels'" cried Uncle Bob. Pat —
 
 "LIKE A HUNGRY LION." 295 
 
 that was his fist coming down into his hand. " The 
 young scoundrels!" 
 
 " Well, you've said that twenty times at least, Bob," 
 said Uncle Jack. 
 
 "Enough to make me!" said Uncle Bob sharply. 
 "The young scoundrels!" Pat. 
 
 "I only wish I'd been there with a good handy 
 riding-whip," said Uncle Jack. " There would have 
 been some wailing among them." 
 
 " Yes ; and summonses for assault, and all that 
 bother," said Uncle Dick. "We don't w^ant to come to 
 blows. Jack, if we can help it." 
 
 " They are beyond bearing," cried Uncle Bob, keep- 
 ing up his walk; "the young scoundrels!" Pat. 
 
 " My dear Bob," cried Uncle Dick, who was very 
 much out of temper; "if you would be kind enough to 
 leave off that trot up and down." — 
 
 " Like a hungry lion," said Uncle Jack. 
 
 " In the Zoo," cried Uncle Dick, " you would very 
 much oblio-e me." 
 
 " I can't sit down," said Uncle Bob, thumping his 
 hand. " I feel too much excited." 
 
 " Then bottle it up for future use," said Uncle Dick. 
 " You really must." 
 
 " To attack and hurt the boy in that way ! It's 
 scandalous. The young rufiians — the young savages!" 
 
 Just then Mr. Tomplin came in, looked sharply 
 round, and saw there was something wrong. 
 
 "I beg your pardon," he said quickly; "I'll look in 
 another time." 
 
 "No, no," said Uncle Bob. "Pray sit down. We 
 want your advice. A cruel assault upon our nephew 
 here" — and he related the wdiole affair. 
 
 "Humph!" ejaculated Mr. Tomplin, looking hard at 
 me. 
 
 "What should you advise — warrants against the 
 ringleaders?"
 
 296 MR. tomplin's opinion. 
 
 "Summonses, Mr. Robert, I presume," said Mr. Tomp- 
 lin. "But you don't know who they were?" 
 
 "Yes; oh, yes!" cried Uncle Bob eagerly. "Two 
 young Gentles." 
 
 " But you said the mother saved our young friend 
 here from the lads, dowsed them and trounced them 
 with a pail, and made her husband clean his boots, 
 while she nursed him and made him tea." 
 
 " Ye-es," said Uncle Bob. 
 
 " Well, my dear sir, when you get summonses out 
 against boys — a practice to which I have a very great 
 objection — it is the parents who suffer more than their 
 offspring." 
 
 "Ami serve them right, sir, for bringing their boys 
 up so badly." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so; but boys will be boys," said Mr. 
 Tomplin. 
 
 " I don't mind their being boys," said Uncle Bob 
 angrily; "what I do object to is their being young 
 savages. Why, sir, they half killed my nephew." 
 
 " But he has escaped, my dear sir, and, as I under- 
 stand it, the mother has threatened to — er — er — leather 
 the boys well, that was, I think, her term" — 
 
 " Yes," I said, rather gleefully, " leather them." 
 
 "And judging from the description I have heard of 
 this Amazon-like lady, who makes her husband obey 
 her like a sheep, the young gentlemen's skins will 
 undergo rather a severe tanning process. Now, don't 
 you think you had better let the matter stand as it 
 is? And, speaking on the lex talionis principle, our 
 young friend Jacob here ought to be able to handle his 
 fists, and on the first occasion when he met one of his 
 enemies he might perhaps give him a thrashing. I 
 don't advise it, for it is illegal, but he might perhaps 
 by accident. It would have a good effect." 
 
 " But you are always for letting things drop, Mr. 
 Tomplin," said Uncle Bob peevishly.
 
 I HAVE A WISH. 297 
 
 "Yes; I don't like my friends to go to law — or 
 appeal to the law, as one may say. I am a lawyer, 
 and I lose by giA'ing such advice, I know." 
 
 " Mr. Tomplin's right. Bob," said Uncle Jack. "You 
 think of that boy as if he were sugar. I'm sure he 
 does not want to take any steps; do you, Cob?" 
 
 "No," I said; "if I may"— 
 
 I stopped short. 
 
 "May what?" 
 
 " Have a few lessons in boxinef. I hate fio-htinsj; but 
 I should like to thrash that big boy who kept hitting 
 me most." 
 
 •^ 

 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 UNCLE JACK AND I HAVE A RUN. 
 
 ) BTHi ft Wd A 
 
 DID not have any lessons in boxing, in spite 
 of my earnest desire. 
 
 " We do not want to be aggressors, Cob," 
 said my Uncle Dick. 
 
 " But we want to defend ourselves, uncle." 
 
 "To be sure we do, my lad," he said; "and we'll be 
 ready as we can when we are attacked ; but I don't see 
 the necessity for training ourselves to light." 
 
 So I did not meet and thrash my enemy, but went 
 steadily on with my duties at the works. 
 
 In fact I was very little the worse for my adventure, 
 thanks to Mrs. Gentles, to whom I returned the cap 
 she had lent me and thanked her warmly for her 
 goodness. 
 
 She seemed very pleased to see me, and told me that 
 her "mester" was quite well, only his leg was a little 
 stiff, and that he was at work now with her boys. 
 
 The matters seemed now to have taken a sudden 
 turn, as Mr. Tomplin said they would: the men were 
 evidently getting over their dislike to us and the new 
 steel, making it up and grinding it in an ill-used, half 
 contemptuous sort of way, and at last the necessity for 
 watching by night seemed so slight that we gave it up. 
 
 But it was felt that it would not be wise to give up 
 the air of keeping the place looked after by night, so
 
 OUR NEW WATCHMAN. 299 
 
 old Dunning the gate-keeper was consnlted, and he 
 knew of the very man — one who had been a night 
 watcliman all his life and was now out of work through 
 the failure of the firm by whom he had been employed. 
 
 In due time the man came — a tall, very stout fellow, 
 of about sixty, with a fierce look and a presence that 
 was enough to keep away mischief by the fact of its 
 being known that he was there. 
 
 He came twice, and was engaged to be on duty every 
 night at nine; and in the conversation that ensued 
 in the ofiice he took rather a gruft', independent tone, 
 which was mingled with contempt as he was told of 
 the attempts that had been made. 
 
 "Yes," he said coolly; "it's a way the hands have 
 wherever new folk come and don't hev a reo'lar watch- 
 man. There wouldn't hev been none of that sort o' 
 thinw if I had been here." 
 
 " Then you don't expect any more troubles of this 
 kind?" 
 
 " More ! Not likely, mester. We've ways of our own 
 down here; and as soon as the lads know that Tom 
 Searby's on as watchman there'll be no more trouble." 
 
 " I hope there will not," said Uncle Dick as soon as 
 the man had gone. "It will be worth all his wages to 
 be able to sleep in peace." 
 
 About this time there had been some talk of my 
 father and mother coming down to Arrowfield, but 
 once more difficulties arose in town which necessitated 
 my father's stay, and as my mother was rather delicate, 
 it was decided that she should not be brought up into 
 the cold north till the springtime came again. 
 
 "All work and no play makes — you know the rest," 
 said Uncle Jack one morning at breakfast. "I won't 
 say it, because it sounds egotistic. Cob, what do you 
 say? Let's ask for a holiday." 
 
 " Why not all four go ? " I said eagerly; for though 
 the works were very interesting and I enjoyed seeing
 
 300 ANOTHER HOLIDAY. 
 
 the work go on, I was ready enough to get away, and 
 so sure as the sun shone brightly 1 felt a great longing 
 to be off from the soot and noise to where the cri'eat 
 hills were abloom with heather and gorse, and tramp 
 where I pleased. 
 
 Uncle Dick shook his head. 
 
 " No," he said ; "two of us stay — two go. You fellows 
 have a run to-day, and we'll take our turn another 
 time." 
 
 We were too busy to waste time, and in high glee 
 away we went, with no special aim in view, only to 
 get out of the town as soon as possible, and off to the 
 hills. 
 
 Uncle Jack was a stern, hard man in the works, but 
 as soon as he went out for a holiday he used to take 
 off twenty years, as he said, and leave them at home, 
 so that I seemed to have a big lad of my own age for 
 companion. 
 
 It was a glorious morning, and our way lay by the 
 works and then on past a series of " wheels " up the 
 valley, in fact the same route I had taken that day 
 when I was hunted by the boys. 
 
 But I had Uncle Jack by my side, and in addition 
 it was past breakfast time, and the boys were at 
 work. 
 
 We had nearly reached the dam into which I had 
 so narrowly escaped a ducking, and I was wondering 
 whether Uncle Jack would mind my just running to 
 speak to the big honest woman in the row of houses 
 we were about to pass, when he stood still. 
 
 " What is it?" I said. 
 
 "Cob, my lad," he cried, "I want a new head or a 
 new set of brains, or something. I've totally forgotten 
 to ask your Uncle Dick to write to the engineer about 
 the boiler." 
 
 " Let me run back," I said. 
 
 "Won't do, my boy; must see him myself. There,
 
 SPINNING TEAPOTS. 301 
 
 you keep steadily on along the road as if we were 
 bound for Leadsliirc, and I'll overtake you in less than 
 half an hour. 
 
 " But," I said, "I was going this way to meet Uncle 
 Dick that day when he "SA'ent to buy the stones, and 
 what a holiday that turned out!" 
 
 " I don't think history will repeat itself this time, 
 Cob," he replied. 
 
 "But will you be able to find me again?" 
 
 " I can't help it if you keep to the road. If you 
 jump over the iii'st hedge you come to, and go rambling 
 over the hills, of course I shall not find you." 
 
 "Then there is no fear," I said; and he walked 
 sharply back, while I strode on slowly and stopped by 
 the open window of one factory, where a couple of men 
 were spinning teapots. 
 
 "Spinning teapots!" I fancy I hear some one say; 
 "how's that done?" 
 
 Well, it has always struck me as being so ingenious 
 and such an example of what can be done by working 
 on metal whirled round at a great speed, that I may 
 interest some one in telling all I saw. 
 
 The works opposite which I stopped found their 
 motive power in a great wheel just as ours did, but 
 instead of steel being the metal used, the firm worked 
 in what is called Britannia metal, which is an alloy of 
 tin, antimony, zinc, and copper, which being mixed in 
 certain proportions form a metal having the whiteness 
 of tin, but a solidity and firmness given by the three 
 latter metals, that make it very durable, which tin is 
 not. 
 
 "Oh, but," says somebody, "tin is hard enough ! Look 
 at the tin saucepans and kettles in every kitchen." 
 
 I beg pardon; those are all made of plates of iron 
 rolled out very thin and then dipped in a bath of tin, 
 to come out white and silvery and clean and ready to 
 keep off rust from attacking the iron. What people
 
 302 BRITANNIA METAL. 
 
 call tin plates are really tinned plates. Tin itself is a 
 soft metal that melts and runs like lead. 
 
 As I looked through into these works, one man was 
 busy with sheets of rolled-out Britannia metal, thrus- 
 ting them l)eneatli a stamping press, and at every clang 
 with which this came down a piece of metal like a 
 peii'ectly flat spoon was cut out and fell aside, while at a 
 corresponding press another man was holding a sheet, 
 and as close as possible out of this he was stamping out 
 flat forks, which, like the spoons, were borne to other 
 presses with dies, and as the flat spoon or fork was 
 thrust in it received a tremendous blow, which shaped 
 the bowl and curved the handle, while men at vices 
 and benches finished them ofl" with tiles. 
 
 1 had seen all this before, and how out of a flat sheet 
 of metal what seemed like beautiful silver spoons were 
 made ; but I had never yet seen a man spin a teapot, 
 so being holiday time, and having to wait for Uncle 
 Jack, I stood looking on. 
 
 I presume that most boys know a lathe when they 
 see it, and how, out of a block of wood, ivory, or 
 metal, a beautifully round handle, chess-man, or even 
 a perfect ball can be turned. 
 
 " Well, it is just such a lathe as this that the tea- 
 pot spinner stands before at his work, which is to 
 make a handsome tea or cofl'ee-pot service. 
 
 But he uses no sharp tools, and he does not turn his 
 tea-pot out of a solid block of metal. His tool is a 
 hard piece of wood, something like a child's hoop- 
 stick, and fixed to the spinning-round part of the 
 lathe, the "chuck," as a workman would call it, is a 
 solid block of smooth wood shaped like a deep slop- 
 basin. 
 
 Up against the bottom of this wooden sugar-basin 
 the workman places a flat round discor plateof Britannia 
 metal — plate is a good term, for it is about the size or 
 a little larger than an ordinary dimier plate. A part
 
 THE DUCTILE ALLOY. 303 
 
 of the lathe is screwed up against this so as to hold 
 the plate flat up against the bottom of the wooden 
 sugar-basin ; the lathe is set in motion and the glisten- 
 ing white disc of metal spins round at an inconceivable 
 rate, and becomes nearly invisible. 
 
 Then the man begins to press his wooden stick up 
 against the centre of the plate as near as he can go, 
 and gradually draws the wooden tool from the centre 
 towards the edge, pressing it over the wooden block of 
 basin shape. 
 
 This he does again and again, and in spite of the 
 metal being cold, the heat of the friction, the speed at 
 which it goes, and the ductility of the metal make it 
 behave as if it were so much clay or putty, and in a 
 very short time the wooden tool has moulded it from 
 a flat disc into a metal bowl wdiich covers the w^ooden 
 block. 
 
 Then the lathe is stopped, the mechanism unscrewed, 
 and the metal bowl taken ofl:'the moulding block, wdiich 
 is dispensed wdtli now, for if the spinner were to 
 attempt to contract the edges of his bowl, as a potter 
 does when making a jug, the wooden mould could not 
 be taken out. 
 
 So without the wooden block the metal bowl is 
 again fixed in the lathe, sent spinning round, the stick 
 applied, and in a very short time the bowl, instead of 
 beincr large-mouthed, is made to contract in a beautiful 
 curve, growing smaller and smaller, till it is about one- 
 third of its original diameter, and the metal has seemed 
 to be plastic, and yielded to the moulding tool till a 
 gracefully formed tall vessel is the result, with quite a 
 narrow mouth where the lid is to be. 
 
 Here the spinner's task is at an end. He has turned 
 a flat plate of metal into a large-bodied narrow- 
 mouthed metal pot as easily as if the hard cold metal 
 had been clay, and all with the lathe and a piece of 
 wood. There are no chips, no scrapings. All the
 
 304 A STATE OF EXCITEMENT. 
 
 metal is in tlie pot, and that is now passed on to have 
 four legs soldered on, a hole cut for the spout to be 
 fitted; a handle placed where the handle should be, 
 and finally hinges and a lid and polish to make it per- 
 fect and ready for someone's tray. 
 
 I stopped and saw the workman spin a couple of 
 pots, and then thinking I should like to have a try at 
 one of our lathes, I went on past this dam and on to 
 the next, where I meant to have a friendly word with 
 Mrs. Gentles if her lord and master were not smoking 
 by the door. 
 
 I did not expect to see him after hearing that 
 he was away at work; but as it happened he was 
 there. 
 
 For as I reached the path along by the side of the 
 dam I found myself in the midst of a crowd of women 
 and crying children, all in a state of great excitement 
 concerning something in the dam. 
 
 I hurried on to see what was the matter, and to my 
 astonishment there was Gentles on the edge of the 
 dam, armed with an ordinary long broom, with which 
 he was trying to hook something out of the water — 
 what, I could not see, for there was nothing visible. 
 
 " Farther in — farther in," a shrill voice cried, making 
 itself heard over the gabble of fifty others. " My Jenny 
 says he went in theer." 
 
 I was still some distance off, but I could see Gentles 
 the unmistakaljle splash the broom in again, and then 
 over and over again, while women were wringing their 
 hands, and giving bits of advice which seemed to have 
 no cfiect upon Gentles, who kept splashing away with 
 the broom. 
 
 Just then a tall figure in bonnet and shawl came 
 hurrying from the other end of the path, and joined 
 the group about the same time as I did. 
 
 There was no mistaking Mrs. Gentles without her 
 voice, which she soon made heard.
 
 ii DANGEROUS ACCIDENT. 305 
 
 " Whose bairn is it?" she cried loudly, and throwing 
 off her bonnet and shawl as she spoke. 
 
 " Thine — it's tliy little Esau — playing on the edge 
 — got shoved in," was babbled out by a dozen women; 
 while Gentles did not speak, but went on pushing in 
 the broom, giving it a mow round like a scythe, and 
 pulling it out. 
 
 "Wheer? Oh, my gracious!" panted Mrs. Gentles, 
 " wheer did he go in?" 
 
 Poor woman! A dozen hands pointed to different 
 parts of the bank many yards apart, and I saw her 
 turn quite white as she rushed at her husband and 
 tore the broom from his hands. 
 
 "What's the good o' that, thou Maulkin,"^ she cried, 
 giving him a push that sent him staggering away; and 
 without a moment's hesitation she stooped, tightened 
 her garments round her, and jumped right into the 
 dam, which was deeper than she thought, for she went 
 under in the great splash she made, losing her footing, 
 and a dread fell upon all till they saw the great stal- 
 wart woman rise and shake the water from her face, 
 and stand chest deep, and then shoulder deep, as, sobbing 
 hysterically, she reached out in all directions with the 
 broom, trying to find the child. 
 
 " Was it anywheers about here — anywheers about 
 here?" she cried, as she waded to and fro in a state of 
 frantic excitement, and a storm of affirmations re- 
 sponded, while her husband, who seemed quite out of 
 place among so many women, stood rubbing his head 
 in a stolid way. 
 
 " Quiet, bairns ! " shrieked one of the women, stamp- 
 ing her foot fiercely at the group of children who had 
 been playing about after childhood's fashion in the 
 most dangerous place they could find. 
 
 Her voice was magical, for it quelled a perfect babel 
 of sobs and cries. And all the while poor Mrs. Gentles 
 
 ^ Scarecrow. 
 (322) U
 
 306 I TRY. 
 
 was reaching out, so reckless of herself that she was 
 where the water reached her chin, and could hardly 
 keep her footing. 
 
 " Call thjsen a man!" shouted the woman who had 
 silenced the children. " Go in or thou'llt lose thy wife 
 and baii'n too." 
 
 But Gentles paid no heed to the admonition. He 
 stood rubbing his ear softly, though he gave a satisfied 
 grunt as he saw the fierce virago of a woman who had 
 spoken, leap in after Mrs. Gentles, and wade out so as 
 to hold her left hand. 
 
 ^\ here had the child tumbled in ? No one knew, for 
 the frightened little ones who had spread the news, 
 running away home as soon as their playmate had 
 toppled in with a splash, were too scared to remember 
 the exact spot. 
 
 T had not been idle all this time, but as the above 
 scene was in progress I had taken ofif jacket, vest, and 
 cap, handing them to a woman to hold, and had just 
 finished kicking off" my boots and socks, carefully 
 watching the surface of the water the while, under the 
 impression that the poor child would rise to the surface. 
 
 AH at once I cauoht sio;ht of somethino- far to the 
 right of us, and evidently being taken by the current 
 towards the sluice where the bis; wheel was in motion. 
 
 It might be the child, or it might only be a piece of 
 paper floating there, but I had no time to investigate 
 that, and, running along the path till I was opposite 
 the place, I plunged head first in, rose, shook the water 
 from my eyes, and swam as rapidly as my clothes 
 would allow towards the spot. 
 
 The women set up a cry and the children shrieked, 
 and as I swam steadily on I could hear away to my 
 left the two women come splashing and wading 
 through the water till they were opposite to where I 
 was swimming. 
 
 " Oh, quick! quick, my lad!" cried Mrs. Gentles; and
 
 DIVING. 307 
 
 her aijonized voice sent a thrill through me far more 
 than did the shrieking chorus of the women as they 
 shouted words of encouragement to me to proceed. 
 
 I did not need the encouragement, for I was swim- 
 ming my best, not making rapid strokes, but, as Uncle 
 Jack had often shown me in river and sea, taking a 
 long, slow, vigorous stroke, well to the end, one that is 
 more effective, and which can be long sustained. 
 
 But though I tried my best, I was still some feet 
 from the spot where I had seen the floating object, 
 when it seemed to fade away, and there was nothing 
 visible when I reached the place. 
 
 "There! there!" shrieked Mrs. Gentles; "can't you 
 see him — there?" 
 
 She could not see any more than I could, as I raised 
 myself as high as possible, treading water, and then 
 paddling round like a dog in search of something 
 thrown in which has sunk. 
 
 The little fellow had gone, and there was nothing 
 for it but to dive, and as I had often done before, I 
 turned over and went down into the black water to 
 try and find the drowning child. 
 
 I stayed down as long as I could, came up, and 
 looked round amidst a tremendous chorus of cries, and 
 then dived again like a duck. 
 
 Pray, don't think I was doing anything brave or 
 heroic, for it seemed to me nothing of the kind. I had 
 been so drilled by my uncles in leaping off banks, and 
 out of a boat, and in diving after eggs thrown down 
 in the clear water, that, save the being dressed, it was 
 a very ordinary task to me; in fact, I believe I could 
 have swum steadily on for an hour if there had been 
 any need, and gone on diving as often as I liked. 
 
 So I went under again and again, with the current 
 always taking me on toward the sluice, and giving way 
 to it; for, of course, the child w^ould, I felt, be carried 
 that way too.
 
 308 NEARLY LOST. 
 
 Every time I rose there was the shrieking and cry- 
 ing of the women and the prayerful words of the mother 
 bidding me try; and had not her woman friend clung 
 to her arm, I believe she would have struggled into 
 deep water and been drowned. 
 
 I caught glimpses of her, and of Gentles standing on 
 the bank rubbing his ear as I dived down again in 
 quite a hopeless way now, and, stopping down a much 
 shorter time, I had given a kick or two, and was rising, 
 when my hands touched something which glided away. 
 
 This encouraged me, and I just took my breath above 
 water, heard the cries, and dived again, to have the 
 water thundering in my ears. 
 
 For a few moments I could feel nothing; then my 
 left hand touched a bundle of clothes, and in another 
 moment I was at the surface with the child's head 
 above water, and swimming with all my might for the 
 side. 
 
 There was a wild shriek of excitement to greet me, 
 and then there was very nearly a terrible catastrophe 
 for finale to the scene, for, as soon as she saw that I 
 had hold of her child, the frantic mother shook off her 
 companion, and with a mingling of the tragic and 
 ludicrous reached out with the broom to drag us both in. 
 
 Her excitement was too much for her; she took a 
 step forward to reach us, slij^ped into deep water, went 
 under, and the next minute she had risen, snatched at 
 me, and we were struggling together. 
 
 I was quite paralysed, while the poor woman had 
 lost her head completely, and was blind by trying to 
 save herself — holding on to me with all her might. 
 
 Under the circumstances it is no wonder that I be- 
 came helpless and confused, and that we sank together 
 in the deep water close now to the dam head, and then 
 all was black confusion, for my sensations were very 
 different to what they were when I made my volun- 
 tary dives.
 
 RESCUE. 309 
 
 It was matter of moments, thoue:h, and then a stroncc 
 hand gripped me by the arm, we were dragged to the 
 side, and a dozen hands were ready to help us out on 
 to the bank. 
 
 " Give me the child," said a strange voice. " Which 
 is the house? Here — the mother and one woman, 
 come. Keep the crowd away." 
 
 In a confused way I saw a tall man in black take 
 the child in his arms, and I thought how wet he would 
 make himself; while Mrs. Gentles, panting and gasp- 
 ing for breath, seized me by the hand; and then they 
 passed on in the middle of the crowd, augmented by a 
 number of workmen, and disappeared into the cottage 
 I knew so well. 
 
 "What! was it you, Uncle Jack?" I said, looking up 
 in his grave big eyes. 
 
 "Yes, my boy; and I only just came in time. How 
 are you?" 
 
 " Horribly wet," I said grimly and with a shiver. 
 Then forcing a laugh as he held my hands tightly in 
 his. "Why, you're just as bad." 
 
 "Yes, but you — are you all right?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, uncle! there's nothing the matter with 
 me." 
 
 " Then come along and let's run home. Never mind 
 appearances; let's get into some dry clothes. But I 
 should like to hear about the child." 
 
 It was an easy thing to say, but not to do. We 
 wanted to go to Gentles' house, but we were sur- 
 rounded by a dense crowd; and the next minute a lot 
 of rough men were shaking both Uncle Jack's hands 
 and fighting one with the other to get hold of them, 
 while I — 
 
 Just fancy being in the middle of a crowd of women, 
 and all of them wantino- to throw their arms round me 
 and kiss me at once. 
 
 That was my fate then; and regardless of my resis-
 
 310 WE MAKE FRIENDS. 
 
 tance one motherly body after another seized me, kiss- 
 ing my cheeks roundly, straining me to her bosom, and 
 calling me her "brave lad!" or her "bonny bairn!" or 
 " my mahn!" 
 
 I had to be kissed and hand-shaken till I would 
 gladly have escaped for very shame; and at last Uncle 
 Jack rescued me, coming to my side smiling and look- 
 ing round. 
 
 " If he's thy bairn, mester," cried the virago-like 
 woman who had helped Mrs. Gentles, "thou ought to 
 be proud of him." 
 
 "And so I am," cried Uncle Jack, laying his hand 
 upon my shoulder. 
 
 Here there was a loud " hurrah ! " set up by the men, 
 and the women joined in shrilly, while a couple of men 
 with big mugs elbowed their way towards us. 
 
 " Here, lay holt, mester," said one to Uncle Jack ; 
 "drink that— it'll keep out the cold." 
 
 At the same moment a mug was forced into my 
 hand, and in response to a nod from Uncle Jack I took 
 a hearty draught of some strong mixture which I 
 believe was gin and beer. 
 
 "How is the child?" said Uncle Jack. 
 
 " Doctor says he can't tell yet, but hopes he'll pull 
 bairn through." 
 
 " Now, my lads," said Uncle Jack, " you don't want 
 us to catch cold?" 
 
 "No.— Hurray!" 
 
 "Nor you neither, my good women?" 
 
 "Nay, God bless thee, no!" was chorused. 
 
 "Then good-bye! and if one of you will run down 
 to our place and tell us how the little child is by and 
 by, I'll be glad." 
 
 " Nay, thou'llt shake ban's wi' me first," said the big 
 virago-like woman, whose drenched clothes clung to 
 her from top to toe. 
 
 "That I will," cried Uncle Jack, suiting the action
 
 TREATED AS HEROES. 311 
 
 to the word by holding out his; but to his surprise the 
 woman laid her hands upon his shoulders, the tears 
 streaming down her cheeks, and kissed him in simple 
 north-country fashion. 
 
 "God bless thee, my mahn!" she said with a sob. 
 " Thou may'st be a Lunnonor, but thou'rt a true un, 
 and thou'st saved to-day as good a wife and mother as 
 ever stepped." 
 
 Here there was another tremendous cheer; and to 
 avoid fresh demonstrations I snatched my clothes from 
 the woman who held them, and we hurried ofi' to get 
 back to Mrs. Stephenson's as quickly and quietly as we 
 could. 
 
 Quickly! quietly! We were mad to expect it; for 
 we had to go home in the midst of a rapidly-increasing 
 crowd, who kept up volley after volley of cheers, and 
 pressed to our sides to shake hands. 
 
 That latter display of friendliness we escaped during 
 the finish of our journey; for in spite of all Uncle Jack 
 could do to prevent it, big as he was, they hoisted 
 him on the shoulders of a couple of great furnace- 
 men, a couple more carrying me, and so we were taken 
 home. 
 
 I never felt so much ashamed in iny life, but there 
 was nothing for it but to be patient; and, like most of 
 such scenes, it came to an end by our reaching Mrs. 
 Stephenson's and nearly frightening her to death. 
 
 " Bless my heart!" she cried, "I thought there'd been 
 some accident, and you was both brought home half 
 killed. Just hark at 'em! The street's full, and the 
 carts can hardly get by." 
 
 "And so it was; for whenever, as I towelled myself 
 into a glow, I peeped round the blind, there was the 
 great crowd shouting and hurrahing with all their 
 might. 
 
 For the greater part they were workmen and boys, 
 all in their shirt-sleeves and without caps; but there
 
 312 TUE BRASS BAND. 
 
 was a large sprinkling of big motherly women there; 
 and the more I looked the more abashed I felt, for 
 first one and then another seemed to be telling the 
 story to a listening knot, as I could see by the motion 
 of her hands imitatinsf swimmingf. 
 
 Two hours after we were cheered by the news that 
 my efforts had not been in vain, for after a long fight 
 the doctor had brought the child to; and that night, 
 when we thought all the fuss was over, there came six 
 great booms from a big drum, and a powerful brass 
 band struck up, "See, the Conquering Hero comes!" 
 Then the mob that had gathered cheered and shouted 
 till we went to the window and thanked them; and 
 then they cheered again, growing quite mad with ex- 
 citement as a big strapping woman, in a black silk 
 bonnet and a scarlet shawl, came up to the door and 
 was admitted and brought into the parlour. 
 
 I was horrified, for it was big Mrs. Gentles, and I 
 had a dread of another scene. 
 
 I need not have been alarmed, for there was a sweet 
 natural quietness in the woman that surprised us all, 
 as she said with the tears running down her cheeks: 
 
 " I'm only a poor common sort of woman, gentlemen, 
 but I think a deal o' my bairns, and I've come to say 
 I'll never forget a prayer for the bonny boy who saved 
 my little laddie, nor for the true brave gentleman who 
 saved me to keep them still." 
 
 Uncle Jack shook hands with her, insisting upon her 
 having a glass of wine, but she would not sit down, 
 and after she had drunk her wine she turned to me. 
 
 I put out my hand, but she threw her arms round 
 my neck, kissed me quickly on each cheek, and ran 
 sobbing out of the room, and nearly oversetting Mr. 
 Tomplin, who was coming up. 
 
 " Hallo, my hero! " he cried, shaking hands with me. 
 
 " Please, please don't, Mr. Tomplin," I cried. " I feel 
 as if I'd never do such a thin^j attain as loner as I live."
 
 A GENTLE VISITOR. 313 
 
 " Don't say that, my boy," he cried. " Say it if you 
 like, though. You don't mean it. I say, though, you 
 folks have done it now." 
 
 We had done more than we thought, for the next 
 morning when we walked down to the office and Uncle 
 Jack was saying that we must not be done out of 
 our holiday, who should be waiting at the gate but 
 Gentles, 
 
 "Ugh!" said Uncle Jack; "there's that scoundrel. 
 I hate that man. I wish it had been someone else's 
 child you had saved, Cob. Well, my man," he cried 
 roughly, " what is it ? " 
 
 Gentles had taken off his cap, a piece of politeness 
 very rare among his set, and he looked down on the 
 ground for a minute or two, and then ended a painful 
 silence by saying: 
 
 " I've been a reg'lar bad un to you and yours, mester; 
 but it was the traade as made me do it." 
 
 " Well, that's all over now, Gentles, and you've come 
 to apologize?" 
 
 " Yes, mester, that's it. I'm down sorry, I am, and 
 if you'll tek me on again I'll sarve you like a man — 
 ay, and I'll f eight for thee like a man agen the traade." 
 
 " Are you out of work ? " 
 
 " Nay, mester, I can always get plenty if I like to 
 wuck." 
 
 " Do you mean what you say, Gentles ? " 
 
 "Why, mester, wouldn't I hev been going to club 
 to-day for money to bury a bairn and best wife a man 
 ivver hed if it hadn't been for you two. Mester, I'd 
 do owt for you now." 
 
 " 1 believe you. Gentles," said Uncle Jack in his firm 
 way. " Go back to your stone." 
 
 Gentles smiled all over his face, and ran in before 
 us whistling loudly with his fingers, and the men all 
 turned out and cheered us over and over again, look- 
 ing as delighted as so many boys.
 
 314 MRS. gentles' boys. 
 
 "Mr. Tomplin's right," said Uncle Dick; "we've 
 done it at last." 
 
 "No, not yet," said Uncle Jack; "we've won the 
 men to our side and all who know us will take our 
 part, but there is that ugly demon to exorcise yet that 
 they call the traiide." 
 
 That night I was going back alone when my heart 
 gave a sort of leap, for just before me, and apparently 
 waylaying me, were two of the boys who had been 
 foremost in hunting me that day. My temper rose 
 and my cheeks flushed; but they had come upon no 
 inimical errand, for they both laughed in a tone that 
 bespoke them the sons of Gentles, and the bigger one 
 spoke in a bashful sort of way. 
 
 " Moother said we was to come and ax your pardon, 
 mester. It were on'y meant for a game, and she 
 leathered us both for it." 
 
 " And Avill you hev this ? " said the other, holding 
 out something in a piece of brown paper. 
 
 " I sha'n't take any more notice of it," I said quietly; 
 " but I don't want any present." 
 
 " There, moother said he'd be over proud to tak it," 
 said the younger lad resentfully to his brother. 
 
 "No, 1 am not too proud," I said; "give it to me. 
 What is it?" 
 
 " Best knife they maks at our wucks," said the boy 
 eagerly. " It's rare stoof. I say, we're going to learn 
 to swim like thou." 
 
 They both nodded and went away, leaving me think- 
 ing- that I was after this to be friends with the Arrow- 
 field Ijoys as well as the men. 
 
 They need not have put it in the newspaper, but 
 there it was, a long account headed " Gallant rescue by 
 a boy." It was dressed up in a way that made my 
 cheeks tingle, and a few days later the tears came into 
 ray eyes as I read a letter from my mother telling me 
 she had read in the newspaper what I had done, and —
 
 THE CHAPS fro' lunnon. 315 
 
 There, I will not set that down. It was what my 
 mother said, and every British boy knows what his 
 mother would say of an accident like that. 
 
 It was wonderful how the works progressed after 
 this, and how differently the men met us. It was not 
 only our own, but the men at all the works about us. 
 Instead of a scowl or a stare there was a nod, and a 
 gruff " good morning." In fact, we seemed to have 
 lived down the prejudice against the "chaps fro' Lun- 
 non, and their contrapshions;" but my uncles knew 
 only too well that they had not mastered the invisible 
 enemy called the trade. 
 
 ""^^ 
 
 IT" 
 
 •f
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 A TERRIBLE RISK. 
 
 HAT are you staring at, Cob ? " 
 
 It was Uncle Jack who spoke, and 
 Uncle Dick had just come up with him, 
 to find me in the yard, looking up at the 
 building. 
 
 It was dinner hour, and all the men had gone but 
 Pannell, who was sitting on a piece of iron out in the 
 yard calmly cutting his bread and meat into squares 
 and then masticating them as if it were so much tilt- 
 hammer work that he had to do by the piece. 
 
 " I was thinking, Uncle, suppose they were to set 
 fire to us some night, what should we do? " 
 
 "Hah! yes: not a bad thought," said Uncle Dick 
 sharply. " Pannell ! " 
 
 " Hillo! " said that gentleman, rising slowly. 
 
 " Finish eating your bread and meat as you go, will 
 you, and buy us twenty-four buckets." 
 
 " Fower-and-twenty boockets," said Pannell, speak- 
 ing with his mouth full. " What do yow want wi' 
 fower-and-twenty boockets? " 
 
 " I'll show you this evening," replied my uncle; and, 
 handing the man a couple of sovereigns, Pannell went 
 off, and both Uncle Jack and I laughed at the quick 
 way in which Uncle Dick had determined to be pro- 
 vided for an emergency.
 
 FIRE DRILL. 317 
 
 The buckets came, and were run by their handles 
 upon a pole which was supported upon two great hooks 
 in one of the outhouses against the wall of the yard, 
 and some of the men noticed them, but the greater 
 part seemed to pay not the slightest heed to this addi- 
 tion to our defences. 
 
 But at leaving time, after a few words from Uncle 
 Dick to Uncle Jack, the latter stood in the yard as the 
 men came out, and said sharply: 
 
 " Four-and-twenty men for a window wash. Who'll 
 help?" 
 
 A few months before, such a demand would have 
 been met with a scowl; but quite a little crowd of the 
 men now stopped, and Pannell said with a grin: 
 
 "Wonder whether there'll be a boocket o' beer 
 efter?" 
 
 "Why, of course there will, my lad," cried Uncle 
 Jack, who ranged the men in order. 
 
 Why, 'tis like being drilled for milishy, mester," 
 said one man, and there was a roar of laughter 
 as the buckets were passed out of the shed, and 
 the men were placed in two rows, with Uncle Jack 
 at one end. Uncle Dick at the other; the two ends 
 resting, as a soldier would say, on the dam, and on 
 the works. 
 
 It was wonderful how a little management and 
 discipline made easy such a business as this, and I 
 could not help smiling as I saw how my idea had 
 been acted upon. 
 
 There were a few sharp words of command given, 
 and then Uncle Jack dipped his bucket into the dam 
 from the stone edge where we had bathed poor Piter, 
 filled it, passed it on to No. 1 of the first row, and 
 took a bucket from the last man of the second row, to 
 fill. Meanwhile the first bucket was being passed 
 on from hand to hand through a dozen pairs when it 
 reached Uncle Dick, who seized it, hurled it up against
 
 318 IS IT PEACE? 
 
 the grimy windows of the works, and then passed it to 
 the lirst man of the second row. 
 
 In a minute or two the men were working like a 
 great machine, the pails being dipped and running, 
 or rather being swung, from hand to hand till they 
 reached Uncle Dick, who dashed the water over the 
 windows, and here and there, while the empty buckets 
 ran back to Uncle Jack. 
 
 The men thoroughly enjoyed it, and Pannell shouted 
 that this would be the way to put out a fire. But my 
 uncles did not take up the idea, working steadily on, 
 and shifting the line till the whole of the glazed win- 
 dows had been sluiced, and a lot of the grit and rubbish 
 washed away from the sills and places, after which the 
 buckets were again slung in a row and the men had 
 their beer, said "Good-night!" quite cheerily, and went 
 away. 
 
 "There," said Uncle Dick, "I call that business. 
 How well the lads worked!" 
 
 "Yes," said Uncle Jack with a sigh of content as he 
 wiped his streaming brow; "we could not have got on 
 with them like that three months ago." 
 
 "No," said Uncle Bob, who had been looking on 
 with me, and keeping dry; "the medicine is working 
 faster and faster; they are beginning to find us out." 
 
 "Yes," said Uncle Dick. "I think we may say it is 
 peace now." 
 
 " Don't be in too great a hurry, my boys," said Uncle 
 Jack. "There is a good deal more to do yet." 
 
 It is one of the terrible misfortunes of a town like 
 Arrowfield that accidents among the work-people are 
 so common. There was an excellent hospital there, and 
 it was too often called into use by some horror or 
 another. 
 
 It would be a terrible tale to tell of the mishaps that 
 we heard of from week to week: men burned by
 
 A HORROR. 319 
 
 hot twining rods; by the falling o^ masses of iron or 
 steel that were being forged; by blows of hannners; 
 and above all in the casting-shops, when glowing fluid 
 metal was poured into some mould which had not 
 been examined to see whether it was free from water. 
 
 Do you know what happens then? Some perhaps 
 do not. The fluid metal runs into the mould, and 
 in an instant the water is turned into steam, by whose 
 mighty power the metal is sent flying like a shower, 
 the mould rent to pieces, and all who are within range 
 are horribly burned. 
 
 That steam is a wonderful slave, but what a master! 
 It is kept bound in strong fetters by those who force 
 its obedience; but woe to those who give it the oppor- 
 tunity to escape by some neglect of the proper pre- 
 cautions. 
 
 One accident occurred at Arrowfield during the win- 
 ter which seemed to give the final touch to my uncles' 
 increasing popularity with the work-people, and we 
 should have had peace, if it had not been for the act 
 of a few malicious wretches that took place a month 
 or too later. 
 
 It was one evening when we had left the works 
 early with the intention of having a good long fireside 
 evening, and perhaps a walk out in the frosty winter 
 night after supper, that as we were going down one of 
 the busy lanes with its works on either side, we were 
 suddenly arrested by a deafening report followed by 
 the noise of falling beams and brickwork. 
 
 As far as we could judge it was not many hundred 
 yards away, and it seemed to be succeeded by a ter- 
 rible silence. 
 
 Then there was the rushing of feet, the shouting of 
 men, and a peculiar odour smote upon our nostrils. 
 
 "Gunpowder!" I exclaimed as I thought of our 
 escapes. 
 
 "No," said Uncle Dick. "Steam."
 
 320 THE RIVEN BOILER. 
 
 "Yes," said Umle Jack. "Some great boiler has 
 burst. Heaven help the poor men!" 
 
 Following the stream of people we were not long in 
 reaching the gateway of one of the greatest works in 
 Arrow^held. Everything was in such a state of con- 
 fusion that our entrance was not opposed; and in a 
 few minutes we saw by the light of tlaring gas-jets, 
 and of a fire that had begun to blaze, one of the most 
 terrible scenes of disaster I had ever witnessed. 
 
 The explosion had taken place in the huge boiler- 
 house of the great iron-works, a wall had been hurled 
 down, part of the iron-beamed roof was hanging, one 
 great barrel- shaped boiler had been blown yards away 
 as if it had been a straw, and its fellow, about twenty 
 feet long, was ripped open and torn at the rivets, just 
 as if the huge plates of iron of which it was composed 
 were so many postage -stamps torn off and roughly 
 crumpled in the hand. 
 
 There was a great crowd collecting, and voices shouted 
 warninif to beware of the fallino- roof and walls that 
 were in a crumbling condition. But these shouts were 
 very little heeded in the presence of the cries and 
 moans tliat could be heard amongst the piled-up brick- 
 work. Injured men were there, and my uncles were 
 among tlie first to rush in and befijin bearing them out 
 — poor creatures horribly scalded and crushed. 
 
 Then there was a cry for picks and shovels — some 
 one was buried; and on these being brought the men 
 plied them bravely till there was a warning shout, and 
 the rescue party had only just time to save themselves 
 from a falling wall which toppled over with a tremen- 
 dous crash, and sent up a cloud of dust. 
 
 The men rushed in again, though, and in an in- 
 credibly short space of time they had dug and torn 
 away a heap of broken rubbish, beneath which moans 
 could be heard. 
 
 I stood close beside my uncles, as, blackened and
 
 MORE VOLUNTEEllS. 321 
 
 covered with dust and sweat, they toiled away, Uncle 
 Jack being the first to chase away the horrible feeling 
 of fear that was upon me lest they should be too late. 
 
 " Here he is," he cried ; and in a few minutes more, 
 standing right down in a hole, he lifted the poor 
 maimed creature who had been crying for our help. 
 
 There was a tremendous cheer raised here, and the 
 poor fellow was carried out, while Uncle Dick, who, 
 somehow, seemed to be taking the lead, held up his 
 hand. 
 
 "Hark!" he said. 
 
 But there was no sound. 
 
 " If there is no living creature here," he said, " we 
 must get out. It is not safe to work till the roof has 
 been blown down or fallen. If there is anyone alive, 
 my lads, we must have him out at all risks." 
 
 There was a cheer at this, and then, as soon as he 
 could get silence. Uncle Jack shouted: 
 
 "Is anyone here?" 
 
 There was a low wailing cry for help far back beyond 
 the ripped-up boiler, and in what, with tottering wall 
 and hanging roof, was a place too dangerous to ap- 
 proach. 
 
 " Come, lads, we must have him out," cried Uncle 
 Dick; but a gentleman, who was evidently one of the 
 managers, exclaimed: 
 
 " No, it is too dangerous." 
 
 "Volunteers!" cried Uncle Dick. 
 
 Uncle Jack, Uncle Bob, Pannell, Stevens, and four 
 more men went to his side, and in the midst of a 
 deathly silence we saw them go softly in and disappear 
 in the gloom of the great wrecked boiler-house. 
 
 Then there was utter silence, out of which Uncle 
 Dick's voice came loud and clear, but ominously fol- 
 lowed by the rattling down of some fragments of 
 brick. 
 
 " Where are you ? Tiy and speak." 
 
 (322) X
 
 322 A FEARFUL RISK. 
 
 A low piteous moan was the reply. 
 
 "All right, my lads, down here!" we heard Uncle 
 .lack cry. " No picks — hands, hands." 
 
 " And work gently," cried Uncle Dick. 
 
 Then, in the midst of the gloom we could hear the 
 rattlini;' of bricks and stones, and though we could see 
 nothing; we could realize that these brave men were 
 digging down with their hands to try and get out the 
 buried stoker. 
 
 The flames burned up brightly, casting curious 
 shadows, and though we could see nothing, lighting 
 the men over their gallant task, while I, as I gazed in, 
 trying to penetrate the gloom, felt as if I ought to be 
 there by my uncles' side. 
 
 This feeling grew so strong that at last I took a few 
 steps forward, but only to be seized by a pair of strong 
 arms and brought back. 
 
 " Nay, nay, lad," said a voice that I started to hear, 
 for it was Gentles'; "there's plenty risking their lives 
 theer. Yow stay." 
 
 Just then there was a hoarse shriek of terror, a wild 
 yell from the crowd, for a curious rushing rumble was 
 heard, a dull thud, and another cloud of dust came 
 rolling out, looking like smoke as it mingled with the 
 fire. 
 
 In the midst of this the men who had been digging 
 in the ruins came rushinoc out. 
 
 "Part of the roof," cried Uncle Dick, panting, "and 
 the rest's falling. Are you all here, lads?" 
 
 "Ay, all," was answered as they looked from one to 
 the other in the flickering light. 
 
 " Nay, not all," shouted Stevens. " Owd lad Pannell's 
 buried alive. I see 'un fall." 
 
 There was a murmur of horror and a burst of wail- 
 ing, for now a number of women had joined the 
 throntx. 
 
 "Are you hurt?" I cried anxiously.
 
 FOR THE SAKE OF THE INJURED. 323 
 
 " Only a few cuts and bruises, Cob," said Uncle 
 Dick. " Now, my lads, quick. We must have them 
 out." 
 
 The men stopped short, and there was a low angry 
 murmur like the muttering of a coming storm. 
 
 "Quick, my lads, quick!" 
 
 There was a hoarse cry for help from out of the 
 ruins, and I knew it must be our poor smith. 
 
 " No, sir, stop," cried the gentleman who had before 
 spoken. " I'd dare anything, but we have sacrificed 
 one life in trying to save others. I have just been 
 round, and I say that at the least movement of the 
 ruins the left wall must come down." 
 
 There was a loud cry of assent to this, and amongst 
 shouts and a confused murmur of voices there came 
 out of the gloom that fearful cry again: 
 
 "Help!" 
 
 " The wall must fall, men," cried Uncle Dick loudly. 
 " I can't stand and hear that cry and not go. Once 
 more volunteers." 
 
 Half a dozen men started out of the crowd; but the 
 peril was too great. They shrank back, and I saw 
 my three uncles standing together in the bright light 
 of the burning building, blackened, bleeding, and in 
 rags. 
 
 Then Uncle Dick put out his two hands, and 
 Uncle Jack and Uncle Bob took them. They stood 
 together for a short minute, and then went towards 
 the tottering wall. 
 
 "Stop!" cried the gentleman. "You must not risk 
 your lives." 
 
 For answer Uncle Jack turned his great manly face 
 towards us and waved his hand. 
 
 Then tliey disappeared in the gloom, and a curious 
 murmur ran along the great crowd. It was neither 
 sigh, groan, nor cry, but a low hushed murmur of all 
 these; and once more, as a dead silence fell, we heard
 
 324 PANNELL IS SAVED. 
 
 that piteous cry, followed by a hoarse cheer, as if the 
 sufferer had seen help come. 
 
 Then, as we listened in dead silence, the rattling of 
 brickwork came again, mingled with the fluttering of 
 the flames and the crackle and roar of burning as the 
 fire leaped up higher and higher from what had been 
 one of the furnace-holes, and across which a number of 
 rafters and beams had fallen, and were blazing brightly, 
 to light up the horrible scene of ruin. 
 
 Rattle and crash of bricks and beams, and we all 
 knew that my uncles must be working like giants. 
 
 " 1 daren't go, Mester Jacob," whispered Gentles. 
 " I'd do owt for the brave lads, but it's death to go. 
 It's death, and I daren't." 
 
 All at once, as everyone was listening for the fall of 
 the tottering wall, some one caught sight of the moving 
 figures, and a deafening cheer rose up as Uncle Dick 
 appeared carrying the legs and Uncles Jack and Bob 
 the arms of a man. 
 
 They came towards where I was standing, so that I 
 w^as by when poor Pannell was laid down, and I went 
 on one knee by his side. 
 
 "Much hurt?" I panted. 
 
 " Nay, more scared than hurt, lad," he said. " I was 
 buried up to my neck, and feeling's gone out of my 
 legs." 
 
 "Stop now, gentlemen, for heaven's sake!" cried the 
 manager. 
 
 "What! and leave a poor fellow we have promised 
 to come back and help!" cried Uncle Dick with a laugh. 
 
 " But it is certain death to go in, gentlemen," cried 
 the manager passionately. "At the least vibration the 
 roof will fall. I should feel answerable for your lives. 
 I tell you it is death to go." 
 
 " It is moral death to stay away," cried Uncle Dick. 
 "What would you do, Cob?" 
 
 "Go!" I cried proudly, and then I started up panting,
 
 A NOISE LIKE THUNDER. 325 
 
 almost sobbing, to try and stop them. "No, no," I 
 cried; " the danger is too great." 
 
 I saw them wave their hands in answer to the cheer 
 that rose, and I saw Pannell wave his with a hoarse 
 "Hooroar!" and then the gloom had swallowed them 
 up again. 
 
 " I lay close to the poor lad," whispered Pannell. 
 " Reg'lar buried alive. Asked me to kill him out of 
 his misery, he did, as I lay there ; but I said, ' Howd 
 on, my lad. Them three mesters '11 fetch us out;' and 
 so they will." 
 
 "If the roof don't fall," said a low voice close by 
 me, and the same voice said, " Lift this poor fellow up 
 and take him to the infirmary." 
 
 " Nay, I wcant go," cried Pannell, " aw want to stay 
 here and see them mesters come out." 
 
 " Let him rest," said the manager, and upon his ask- 
 ing me I raised Pannell's head, and let him rest against 
 my chest. 
 
 Then amidst the painful silence, and the fluttering 
 and crackling of the fire, we heard again the rattling 
 of bricks and stones; but it was mingled with the fall- 
 ing of pieces from the roof. Then there was a crash 
 and a shriek from the women as a cloud of dust rose, 
 and my heart seemed to stand still, for I felt that my 
 uncles must have been buried; but no, the sound of the 
 bricks and stones being dragged out still went on, and 
 the men gave another cheer. 
 
 The manajrer went round again to the back of the 
 place, and came tearing back with three or four men 
 shouting loudly: 
 
 "Come out! Come out! She's going!" 
 
 Then there was a horrible cry, for with a noise like 
 thunder the left side and part of the roof of the build- 
 ing fell. 
 
 The dust was tremendous, and it was some minutes 
 before the crowd could rush in armed with shovels
 
 326 ANOTHER THREAT. 
 
 and picks to dig out the bodies of the brave men 
 buried. 
 
 The murmur was like that of the sea, for every man 
 seemed to be talking excitedly, and as I knelt there 
 by Pannell I held the poor fellow's hand, clinging to 
 him now, and too much shocked and unnerved to 
 speak. 
 
 " They're killed — they're killed," I groaned. 
 
 But as I spoke the words the people seemed to have 
 gone mad; they burst into such a tremendous cheer, 
 backing away from the ruins, and dividing as they 
 reached us to make way for my uncles to bear to the 
 side of Pannell the insensible ligure of the man they 
 had saved. 
 
 That brave act performed for an utter stranger made 
 the Arrowfield men talk of my uncles afterwards as 
 being of what they called real grit; and all through 
 the winter and during the cold spring months every- 
 thing prospered wonderfully at the works. We could 
 have had any number of men, and for some time it 
 was dangerous for my uncles — and let me modestly 
 say I seemed to share their glory — to go anywhere 
 near a gathering of the workmen, they were so cheered 
 and hero-worshipped. 
 
 But in spite of this good feeling there was no con- 
 cealing the fact that a kind of ill-will was fostered 
 af^ainst our works on account of the new inventions 
 and contrivances we had. From whence this ill-will 
 originated it was impossible to say, but there it was 
 like a smouldering fire, ready to break forth when the 
 time should come. 
 
 " Another threatening letter," Uncle Jack would say, 
 for he generally attended to post matters. 
 
 " Give it to me," said Uncle Bob. " Those letters 
 make the best pipe-lights, they are so incendiary." 
 
 " Shall we take any notice — appeal to the men — 
 advertise a reward for the sender?"
 
 cowards' work. 327 
 
 " No," said Uncle Dick. " With patience we have 
 got the majority of the workmen with us. We'll 
 show them we trust to them for our defence. Give 
 me that letter." 
 
 Uncle Jack passed the insulting threat, and Uncle 
 Dick gummed it and stuck it on a sheet of foolscap, 
 and taking four wafers, moistened them and stuck the 
 foolscap on the office door with, written above it to 
 order by me in a bold text hand: 
 
 "Cowards Work." 
 and beneath it: 
 
 "To he Treated with the Contempt 
 it Deserves." 
 
 But as time went on the threats received about what 
 would be done if such and such processes were not 
 given up grew so serious that when Mr. Tomplin was 
 told he said that we ought to put ourselves under the 
 care of the police. 
 
 "No," said Uncle Dick firmly; "we began on the 
 principle of being just to our workmen, and of showing 
 them that we studied their interests as well as our own, 
 that we are their friends as well as masters, and that 
 we want them to be our friends." 
 
 "But they will not be," said Mr. Tomplin, shaking 
 his head. 
 
 " But they are," said Uncle Dick. " What took place 
 when I stuck that last threat on the door?" 
 
 " The men hooted and yelled and spat upon it." 
 
 "But was that an honest demonstration?" 
 
 " I believe it was." 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Tomplin, "we shall see. You 
 gentlemen quite upset my calculations, but I must 
 congratulate you upon the manner in which you have 
 made your way with the men."
 
 328 TO SEE THE SENTRY. 
 
 "I wish we could get hold of the scoundrels who 
 send these letters." 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Tomplin; "the wire-pullers who make 
 use of the men for their own ends, and will not let the 
 poor fellows be frank and honest when they would. 
 They're a tine race of fellows if they are led right, but 
 too often they are led wrong." 
 
 The days glided on, and as there were no results 
 from these threats we began to laugh at them when 
 they came, especially as Tom Searby the watchman also 
 said they were good for pipe-lights, and that was all. 
 
 But one night Uncle Dick took it into his head to 
 go down to the works and see that all was right. 
 
 Nothing of the kind had been done before since the 
 watchman came, for everything went on all right; the 
 place was as it should be, no bands were touched, and 
 there seemed to be no reason for showing any doubt 
 of the man; and so Uncle Jack said when Uncle Dick 
 talked of going. 
 
 "No, there is no reason," said Uncle Dick; "but I 
 cannot help feeling that we have been lulling ourselves 
 too much into a feeling of security about the place. I 
 shall wait till about one o'clock, and then walk 
 down." 
 
 "No, no," said Uncle Jack; "I'm tired. Had a very 
 heavy day, and of course you cannot go alone." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Because we should not let you. Even Cob would 
 insist upon going." 
 
 "Of course!" I said. "I had made up my mind to 
 
 go." 
 
 It's quite right," said Uncle Bob. " We've been 
 remiss. When sentries are set the superior officers 
 always make a point of going their rounds to see if 
 they are all I'ight. Go, Dick, and we'll come with 
 you."
 
 I HEAR WHISPERING. 329 
 
 Uncle Dick protested, but we had our own way, and 
 about a quarter to one on a bitter March night we let 
 ourselves out and walked down to the works. 
 
 For my part I would far rather have gone to bed, 
 but after a few minutes the excitement of the pro- 
 ceeding began to assert itself, and I was bright and 
 wakeful enouoh. 
 
 We walked quickly and briskly on till we came to 
 the lane by the factory wall; but instead of turning 
 down we all walked on along the edge of the dam, 
 which gleamed coldly beneath the frosty stars. It 
 was very full, for there had been a good deal of rain; 
 and though the air was frosty there was a suggestion 
 of change and more rain before long. 
 
 When we reached the top of the dam we turned and 
 looked back. 
 
 Everything was as quiet as could be, and here and 
 there the glow from the lowered furnace fires made 
 a faint halo about the dark building, so quiet and still 
 after the hurry and buzz of the day. 
 
 As we went back along the dam the wavelets lapped 
 the stone edge, and down below on the other side, as 
 well as by the waste sluice, we could hear the water 
 rushing along towards the lower part of the town, 
 and onward to the big river that would finally carry 
 it to the sea. 
 
 We were very silent, for every one was watching 
 the works, till, as Uncle Dick and I reached the lane, 
 we stopped short, for I caught his arm. 
 
 I had certainly heard whispering. 
 
 There were half a dozen persons down near the gate, 
 but whoever they were they came towards us, said 
 "good-night!" roughly, turned the corner, and went 
 away. 
 
 It looked suspicious for half a dozen men to be down 
 there in the middle of the night, but their manner was 
 inoifensive and civil, and we could see nothing wrong.
 
 330 A SLEEPING WATCHMAN. 
 
 Uncle Dick slipped his key into the lock, and as he 
 opened the little door in the gate there was a low 
 growl and the rush of feet. 
 
 " Piter's on the watch," I said quietly, and the growl 
 turned to a whine of welcome. 
 
 " Be on the look-out," said Uncle Dick ; " we must 
 speak or Searby may attack us." 
 
 "Right!" said Uncle Jack; "but he had better not." 
 
 The dog did not bark, but trotted on before us, and 
 we could just see him as we took a look round the 
 yard before going into the buildings. 
 
 Everything was quite right as far as we could tell. 
 Nothing unusual to be seen anywhere, and we went at 
 last to the main entrance. 
 
 "Nothing could be better," said Uncle Dick. "Only 
 there is no watchman. I say, was I right in coming?" 
 
 "Right enough," replied Uncle Jack; "but look out 
 now for squalls. Men in the dark have a suspicious 
 look." 
 
 We entered, peered in at the great gTinding-shop, and 
 then began to ascend the stairs to the upper works. 
 
 "All right!" said Uncle Dick. "I wish we had a 
 light. Can you hear him?" 
 
 He had stopped short on the landing, and we could 
 hear a low, muttering noise, like a bass saw cutting 
 hard leather. 
 
 Score! score! score! slowly and regularly; the heavy 
 breathing of a deep sleeper. 
 
 " I'm glad we've got a good watcher," said Uncle 
 Jack drily. " Here, Piter, dog, fetch him out. Wake 
 him then." 
 
 The dog understood him, for he burst into a furious 
 fit of barking and charged up into the big workshop, 
 and then there was a worrying noise as if he were 
 dragging at the watchman's jacket. 
 
 " Get out! Be off ! Do you hear!" 
 
 "Hi, Searby!" roared Uncle Jack.
 
 A GENUINE LETTER. 331 
 
 There was a plunge, and a rush to the door, and 
 Searby's big voice cried: 
 
 " Stand back, lads, or I'll blow out thee brains." 
 
 "What with?" said Uncle Bob; "the forge blast? 
 There, come down." 
 
 Searby came down quickly. 
 
 " Lucky for yow that one of yo' spoke," he said. " 1 
 heard you coming, and was lying wait for you. Don't 
 do it agen, mesters. I might hev half-killed yo'." 
 
 "Next time you lie in wait," said Uncle Dick, "don't 
 breathe so loudly, my man, or you will never trap the 
 visitors. They may think you are asleep." 
 
 "Give him another chance," said Uncle Jack as we 
 went home. 
 
 " Ye.s," said Uncle Bob; "it is partly our fault. If 
 we had visited him once or twice he would have been 
 always on the watch." 
 
 "Well," said Uncle Dick, "I don't want to be un- 
 merciful, and it will be a lesson. He'll work hard to 
 regain our confidence." 
 
 Next morning: there were two letters in strange 
 hands, which Uncle Jack read and then handed round. 
 
 One was a threat such as had often been received 
 before; but the other was of a very difierent class. It 
 was as follows: 
 
 " Mesters, — There's somiuhat up. We don't kno 
 wat, hut game o' some kind's going to be played. Owd 
 Tommy Searby gos sleep ivvery night, and he's no good. 
 Some on us gives a look noiu an' then o' nights but 
 yoivd heter luetch in place yoiirsens. — Some f rends." 
 
 "That's genuine," said Uncle Dick emphatically. 
 "What's to be done?" 
 
 "Go and do as they advise," said Uncle Jack. "You 
 see we have won the fellows over, and they actually 
 act as a sort of police for us."
 
 332 UNCLE jack's right. 
 
 The consequence of this letter was that sometimes 
 all four, sometimes only two of us went and kept 
 watch there of a night, very much to old Searby's dis- 
 gust, but we could not afford to heed him, and night 
 after nio-ht we lost our rest for nothino-. 
 
 "Are we being laughed at?" said Uncle Bob wearily 
 one night; " I'm getting very tired of this." 
 
 " So we all are, my dear fellow," said Uncle Jack : 
 " but I can't help thinking that it is serious." 
 
 Uncle Jack was right, for serious it proved.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 FIRE AND WATER. 
 
 NE dark night at the end of March we went 
 down to the works all four, meaning to watch 
 two and two tli rough the darlv hours. The 
 wind blew hard and the rain fell, and as 
 we reached the lane we could hear the water lapping 
 and beating against the sluice and the stones that 
 formed the head of the dam, while the waste rushed 
 away with a hollow roar. 
 
 "Pity to lose so much good power," said Uncle 
 Jack. 
 
 " Sun and wind will bring it back to the hills," said 
 Uncle Dick gravely. " There is no waste in nature." 
 
 I half expected to see a group of men, friends or 
 enemies, waiting about; but not a soul was in sight, 
 and as we reached the gates I shivered involuntarily 
 and thought that people must have very serious spite 
 against us if they left their snug firesides to attack us 
 on a night like that. 
 
 Uncle Dick opened the little door in the gate and 
 we stepped in, but to our surprise there was no low 
 growl and then whine of recognition from Piter. 
 
 " That's strange," said Uncle Jack suspiciously, and 
 he walked on quickly to the door of the building and 
 listened. 
 
 There was no dog there, and his chain and collar did
 
 334 TWO GUARDIANS MISSING. 
 
 not hang over the kennel as if they had been taken 
 from the dog's neck. They were gone. 
 
 This seemed very strange, and what was more 
 strange still, though we went from grinding shop to 
 smithy after smithy, furnace house and shed, there 
 was no sign of the dog, and everything seemed to point 
 to the fact that he had been led away by his chain, 
 and was a prisoner somewhere. 
 
 "Looks like mischief," whispered Uncle Bob. 
 "Where's that scoundrel lying asleep?" 
 
 We went upstairs to see, and expected to find our 
 careful watchman carefully curled up somewhere, but 
 there was no snorincj this time, and Uncle Bob's threat 
 of a bucket of water to wake him did not assume 
 substance and action. 
 
 For though we searched everywhere it soon became 
 evident that Scarby was not present, and that we had 
 come to find the works deserted. 
 
 " Then there is going to be some attack made," said 
 Uncle Dick. "I'm glad we came." 
 
 " Shall you warn the police?" I whispered. 
 
 "No," said Uncle Jack sharply. "If we warn the 
 police the scoundrels will get to know, and no attack 
 will be made." 
 
 " So much the better," I said. "Isn't it?" _ 
 
 " No, my lad. If they did not come to-night they 
 would be here some other time when we had not been 
 warned. We are prepared now, so let them come and 
 we may give them such a lesson as shall induce them 
 to leave us in peace for the future." 
 
 "Do you mean to fight, then?" I asked. 
 
 " Most decidedly, boy. For our rights, for our place 
 where we win our livelihood. We should be cowards 
 if we did not. You must play the dog's part for us 
 witli your sharp eyes and ears. Eecollect we have 
 right on our side and they have wrong." 
 
 " Let's put the fort in a state of defence," said Uncle
 
 IN A STATE OF DEFENCK 335 
 
 Dick merrily "Perhaps it will turn out to be all 
 nonsense, but we must be prepared. What do you 
 say — divide in two watches as we proposed, and take 
 turn and turn?" 
 
 "No: we'll all watch together to-night in case any- 
 thing serious should be meant." 
 
 It did seem so vexatious that a small party of men 
 should be able to keep up this system of w^arfare in 
 the great manufacturing town. Here had my uncles 
 brought a certain amount of prosperity to the place by 
 establishino- these works: the men had found out 
 their worth and respected them, and everything was 
 going on in the most prosperous way, and yet we 
 were being assailed with threats, and it was quite 
 possible that at any moment some cruel blow might be 
 struck. 
 
 I felt very nervous that night, but I drew courage 
 from my uncles, who seemed to take everything in the 
 coolest and most matter-of-fact way. They went 
 round to the buildings where the fires were banked 
 up and glowing or smouldering, ready to be brought 
 under the influence of the blast next day and fanned 
 to white heat. Here every precaution was taken to 
 guard against danger by fire, one of the most probable 
 w^ays of attack, either by ordinary combustion or the 
 swift explosion of gunpowder. 
 
 " There," said Uncle Jack after a careful inspection, 
 "we can do no more. If the ruffians come and blow 
 us up it will be pretty well ruin." 
 
 " While if they burn us we are handsomely insured," 
 said Uncle Dick. 
 
 " By all means then let us be burned," said Uncle 
 Bob lauohincr. "There, don't let's make mountains of 
 molehills. We shall not be hurt.' 
 
 "Well," said Uncle Dick, "I feel as if we ought to 
 take every possible precaution; but, that done, I do 
 not feel much fear of anything taking place. If the
 
 336 A STRANGE ODOUR. 
 
 scoundrels had really meant mischief they would have 
 done something before now." 
 
 "Don't halloa till you are out of the wood," said 
 Uncle Jack. " I smell danger." 
 
 "Where, uncle?" I cried. 
 
 "In the air, boy. How the wind blows! Quite a 
 gale. Brings the smell of naphtha from those works 
 half a mile away. Shows how a scent like that will 
 travel." 
 
 " I say, boys," said Uncle Bob, " what a trade that 
 would be to carry on — that or powder-mills. The 
 scoundrels would regularly hold one at their mercy." 
 
 " Wind's rising, and the water seems pretty lively," 
 said Uncle Dick as we sat together in the oiiice, listen* 
 ing to the noises of the night. 
 
 "We were quite in the dark, and from time to time 
 we had a look round about the yard and wall and that 
 side of the building, the broad dam on the other side 
 being our protection. 
 
 "What a curious gurgling the water makes!" said 
 Uncle Bob as we sat listening; "anyone might think 
 that half a dozen bottles were being poured out at 
 once." 
 
 " The water plays in and out of the crevices amongst 
 the stones, driving the air forth. I've often listened to 
 it and thought it was someone whispering out there 
 beneath the windows," said Uncle Dick. 
 
 Then came a loud gust of wind that shook the win- 
 dows, and directly after there was the strong sour scent 
 of naphtha. 
 
 "They must have had an accident — upset a tank or 
 something of the kind," said Uncle Jack. " How strong 
 it is!" 
 
 "Yes; quite stinging. It comes each time with the 
 puffs of wind. I suppose," continued Uncle Dick, 
 "you would consider that which we smell to be a gas." 
 
 " Certainly," said Uncle Bob, who was, we considered,
 
 A SURPRISE. 337 
 
 a pretty good chemist. "It is the evaporation of the 
 spirit; it is so volatile that it turns of itself into vapour 
 or a'as and it makes itself evident to our nostrils as it 
 is borne upon the air." 
 
 " There must be great loss in the manufacture of 
 such a spirit as that." 
 
 " Oh, they charge accordingly!" said Uncle Bob; "but 
 a great deal does undoubtedly pass oft" into — " 
 
 He stopped short, for Uncle Jack laid his hand upon 
 his knee and we all listened. 
 
 "Nothing," said the latter; but I felt sure I heard a 
 noise below. 
 
 " I heard the gurgling sound very plainly," said 
 Uncle Dick. "There it is again. One might almost 
 think there was water trickling into the building." 
 
 "Or naphtha, judging by the smell," said Uncle Bob. 
 "It's very curious. I have it!" he cried. 
 
 " What do you mean?" said Uncle Jack sharply. 
 
 " There has been an accident, as we supposed, at the 
 naphtha works, and a quantity of it has floated down 
 the stream and into our dam." 
 
 "It has been very clever then," said Uncle Jack 
 gruffly, "for it has floated up stream a hundred yards 
 to get into our dam, and Good heavens!" 
 
 He sprang to the window and threw it open, for at 
 that moment a heavy dull explosion shook the room 
 where we were, and in place of the darkness we could 
 see each other distinctly, for the place seemed to have 
 been filled with reflected light, which went out and 
 then blazed up again. 
 
 "Ah!" ejaculated Uncle Jack, "the cowards! If I 
 had a gun!" 
 
 I ran to his side, and in the middle of the dam, 
 paddling towards the outer side, there was a sort of 
 raft with three men upon it, and now they were dis- 
 tinctly seen, for the black water of the dam seemed to 
 have suddenly become tawny gold, lit by a building 
 
 (322) Y
 
 338 IN GREAT PERIL, 
 
 burning furiously on our right. That building was our 
 furnace-house and the set of smithies and slieds that 
 connected it with the grinding-shops and offices. 
 
 Uncle Jack bano-ed to the window and took the 
 command. 
 
 "Cob," he cried, "run to the big bell and keep it 
 going. Our lads will come. Dick, throw open the 
 gate; Bob, follow me. Fire drill. We may nip the 
 blaze in the bud." 
 
 The lire-bell was not rung, the gate was not thrown 
 open; for as we ran out of the office and down the 
 stairs it was to step into a pool of naphtha, and in a 
 few instants we found that a quantity had been poured 
 in at the lower windows — to what extent we could not 
 tell — but it was evident that this had been done all 
 along the basement by the scoundrels on the raft, and 
 that they had contrived that some should reach one of 
 the furnaces, with the result that in an instant the 
 furnace-house had leaped into a mass of roaring flame, 
 which the brisk gale was fanning and making the fire 
 run along the naphtha-soaked buildings like a wave. 
 
 "Stop, stop!" roared Uncle Jack; "we can do nothing 
 to stay this. Back to the offices and secure all books 
 and papers." 
 
 So swiftly was the fire borne along by the gale that 
 we had hardly time to reach the staircase before it 
 came running along, licking up the naphtha, of which 
 a large quantity had been spilled, and as it caught 
 there were dozens of little explosions. 
 
 I do not think either of us gave a thought to how 
 we were to get away a^-ain, for the valuable books 
 and plans had to be saved at all hazards; so following 
 Uncle Jack we rushed into the big office, the safe was 
 opened, and as rapidly as possible a couple of tin boxes 
 were filled with account-books, and a number of papers 
 were bound round with string. 
 
 "You must look sharp," said Uncle Bob.
 
 SURROUNDED BY FIRE. 339 
 
 "But we must take my books, and odds and ends, 
 and fisliing-tacklo," I cried. 
 
 " Better try and save our lives," said Uncle Bob. 
 "Are you ready?" 
 
 "No; there are some plans we must take," said 
 Uncle Dick. 
 
 "You must leave them," shouted Uncle Bob. "There, 
 you are too late!" he cried, banging to the door at the 
 end of the workshop; "the flame's coming up the 
 stairs." 
 
 "We can get out of the windows," said Uncle Jack 
 coolly. 
 
 " The place beneath is all on fire," cried Uncle Bob, 
 flinging himself on his knees. " The floor's quite hot." 
 
 We should have been suffocated only that there was 
 a perfect rash of cold air through the place, but mo- 
 ment by moment this was becoming hot and poisonous 
 with the gases of combustion. The flames were rush- 
 ing out of the grinding-shop windows beneath us, and 
 tlie yard on one side, the dam on the other, were light 
 as day. 
 
 In one glance over the fire and smoke I saw our 
 wall covered with workmen and boys, some watching, 
 some dropping over into the yard. While in a similar 
 rapid glance on the other side I saw through the flame 
 and smoke that on one side the dam bank was covered 
 with spectators, on the other there were three men 
 just climbing off a rough raft and descending towards 
 the stream just below. 
 
 " Now," said Uncle Jack, seizing one box, " I can do 
 no more. Each of you take your lot and let's go." 
 
 "But where? — how?" I panted. 
 
 "Phew!" 
 
 Uncle Jack gave vent to a long whistle that was 
 heard above the crackling wood, the roar of flames 
 carried along by the wind, and the shouts and cries of 
 the excited crowd in the yard.
 
 340 "KEEP cool!" 
 
 " It's worse than I tliouglit," said Uncle Jack. " We 
 can't get down. Keep cool, boys. We must save our 
 papers. Here, there is less tire at that window than at 
 either of the others — let's throw the boxes out there. 
 They'll take care of them." 
 
 We ran to the far corner window, but as we reached 
 it a pull" of tiame and smoke curved in and drove us back. 
 
 It was so with every window towards the yard, and 
 escape was entirely cut off. 
 
 The men were trying to do something to save us, 
 for there was a tremendous noise and excitement be- 
 low; but they could do absolutely nothing, so rapidly 
 had the gi-inding-shop beneath us been turned into a 
 fiery furnace. 
 
 And now the flames had mastered the end door, 
 which fell inward, and flame and black and gold clouds 
 of smoke rolled in. 
 
 "Quick, Cob! — into the office!" roared Uncle Dick; 
 and I darted in with some of the papers, followed by 
 the rest, Uncle Jack banging to the door. 
 
 " Keep cool, all of you," he cried. " I must save 
 these books and papers." 
 
 " But we must save our lives. Jack," said Uncle 
 Dick. " The floor's smoking. Our only chance is to 
 jump into the dam." 
 
 "Through that blaze of flame!" said Uncle Bob 
 gloomily. 
 
 "It is our only chance," said Uncle Jack; "but let's 
 try to save our boxes as well. They will float if we 
 take care." 
 
 " Now, then, who's first?" 
 
 The window was open, the tin boxes and the packets 
 on the table, the dam beneath but invisible; for the 
 flame and smoke that rose from the window below 
 came like a fiery curtain between us and the water; 
 and it was through this curtain that we should have 
 to plunge.
 
 "ARE YOU READY?" 341 
 
 Certainly it would be a momentary affair, and then 
 we should be in the clear cold water; but the idea of 
 taking such a leap made even my stout uncles shrink 
 and vainly look round for some other means of escape. 
 
 But there were none that we could see. Above the 
 roar and cracklincf of the flames we could hear the 
 shouting of the mob and voices shrieking out more 
 than crying, "Jump! jump!" Everything, though, was 
 one whirl of confusion; and I felt half -stifled with the 
 terrible heat and the choking fumes that came up 
 between the boai^ds and beneath the door. 
 
 It was rapidly blinding as well as confusing us ; and 
 in those exciting moments leadership seemed to have 
 gone, and if even I had made a bold start the others 
 would have followed. 
 
 At last after what seemed to have been a long space 
 of time, though it was doubtless only moments. Uncle 
 Jack cried fiercely : 
 
 "Look: the floor's beginning to burn. You, Dick, 
 out first, Cob shall follow; and we'll drop the two tin 
 boxes to you. You must save them. Now! are you 
 ready?" 
 
 "Yes," cried Uncle Dick, climbing on a chair, and 
 thrusting his arm out of the window. 
 
 As he did so, there was a pufl" like some gigantic 
 firework, and a large cloud of fiery smoke rose up full 
 of tiny sparks; and he shrank back with an ejaculation 
 of pain. 
 
 "Hot, Dick?" cried Uncle Jack almost savagely. 
 " Go on, lad ; it will be hotter here. In five minutes 
 the floor will be burned throua'h." 
 
 "Follow quickly, Cob," cri(Ml Uncle Dick; and then 
 he paused, for there was a curious rushing noise, the 
 people yelled, and there were shrieks and cries, and 
 above all, a great trampling of feet. 
 
 We could see nothing for the flame and smoke that 
 rose before the window; and just then the roar of the
 
 342 AT THE LAST MOMENT. 
 
 flames seemed to increase, and our position became un- 
 endurable. 
 
 But still that was a curious rushing noise in the air, 
 a roar as of thunder and pouring, hissing rain, and a 
 railway train rushing by and coming nearer and nearer 
 every moment; and then, as Uncle Dick was about to 
 step forth into the blaze and leap into the dam, Uncle 
 Jack caught him and held him back. 
 
 Almost at the same moment the rush and roar in- 
 creased a hundred-fold, confusing and startling us, and 
 then, as if by magic, there was a tremendous thud 
 against the walls that shook the foundations; a fierce 
 hissing noise, and one moment we were standing in the 
 midst of glowing light, the next moment we were to 
 our waists in water dashed against the opposite wall, 
 and all was black darkness. 
 
 As we struggled to our feet the water was sinking, 
 but the horrible crashing, rushing noise was still going 
 on — water, a huge river of water was rushing right 
 through our factory threatening to sweep it away, and 
 then the flood seemed to sink as quickly as it had 
 come, and we stood holding hands, listening to the 
 gurgling rush that was rapidly dying away. 
 
 "What is it?" panted Uncle Bob. 
 
 "Life. Thank heaven, we are saved!" said Uncle 
 Dick fervently. 
 
 "Amen!" exclaimed Uncle Jack. "Why, Dick," he 
 cried, " that great dam up in the hills must have burst 
 and come sweeping down the vale!" 
 
 Uncle Jack was right, for almost as he spoke we 
 could hear voices shouting "rezzyvoyer;" and for the 
 moment we forgot our own troubles in the thought of 
 the horrors that must have taken place up the vale. 
 
 But we could not stay where we were, half suftbcated 
 by the steam that rose, and, opening the door, which 
 broke away half burned through, we stood once more 
 in the long workshop, which seemed little changed.
 
 "A SIGHT O' MISCHIEF." 343 
 
 save that here and there a black chasm yawned in the 
 floor, among which wc had to thread our way to where 
 the stout door had been. 
 
 That and the staircase were gone, so that our only 
 chance was to descend by lowering ourselves and drop- 
 ping to the ground. 
 
 Just then we heard the splashing of feet in the yard, 
 and a voice we recognized as Pannell cried: 
 
 "Mebbe they've got away. Alioy there, mesters! 
 Mester Jacob!" 
 
 " Ahoy ! " I shouted ; and a ringing cheer went up from 
 twenty throats. 
 
 " We're all right," I cried, only nearly smothered. 
 " Can you get a short ladder?" 
 
 "Ay, lad," cried another familiar voice; and another 
 shouted, " Owd Jones has got one;" and I was sure it 
 was Gentles who spoke. 
 
 "How's the place, Pannell?" cried Uncle Dick, lean- 
 ing out of one of the windows. 
 
 " So dark, mester, I can hardly see, but lire's put 
 right out, and these here buildings be aw reight, but 
 wheer the smithies and furnace was is nobbut ground." 
 
 "Swept away?" 
 
 " Pretty well burned through first, mester, and then 
 the watter came and washed it all clear. Hey but theer's 
 a sight of mischief done, I fear." 
 
 A short ladder was soon brought, and the boxes and 
 papers were placed in safety in a neighbouring house, 
 after which in the darkness we tramped through the 
 yard, to find that it was inches deep in mud, and that 
 the fiood had found our mill stout enough to resist its 
 force; but the half- burned furnace-house, the smithies, 
 and about sixty feet of tall stone wall had been taken 
 so cleanly away that even the stones were gone, while 
 the mill next to ours was cut riuht in two. 
 
 There was not a vestige of tire left, so, leaving our 
 further inspection to be continued in daylight, we left
 
 344 THE MEN ON THE RAFT. 
 
 a couple of men as watchers, and were going to join 
 the hurrying crowd, when I caught Uncle Dick's arm. 
 
 "Well'?" he exclaimed. 
 
 " Did you see where those men went as they got off 
 the raft?" 
 
 " They seemed to be climbing down into the hollow 
 beside the river," he said: 
 
 "Yes," I whispered with a curious catching of the 
 breath, "and then the flood came." 
 
 He gripped my hand, and stood thinking for a few 
 moments. 
 
 " It is impossible to say," he cried at last. " But 
 come along, we may be of some service to those in 
 trouble." 
 
 In that spirit we went on down to the lower part 
 of the town, following the course of the flood, and 
 finding fresh horrors at every turn. 
 
 •K)Hf
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 EIGHT YEARS LATER. 
 
 ANCY the horrors of that night! The great 
 clam about which one of my uncles had ex- 
 pressed his doubts when we visited it the 
 previous year, and of which he had spoken 
 as our engine, had given way in the centre of the vast 
 earthen wall like a railway embankment. A little crack 
 had grown and grown — the trickling water that came 
 through had run into a stream, then into a river, and 
 then a vast breach in the embankment was made, and 
 a wall of water had rushed down the valley swiftly as 
 a fast train, carrying destruction before it. 
 
 The ruin of that night is historical, and when after 
 a few hours we made our way up the valley, it was to 
 see at every turn the devastation that had been caused. 
 Mills and houses had been swept away as if they had 
 been corks, strongly-built works with massive stone 
 walls had crumbled away like cardboard, and their 
 machinery had been carried down by the great wave 
 of water, stones, gravel, and mud. 
 
 Trees had been lifted up by their roots; rows of 
 cottages cut in half; banks of the valley carved out, 
 and for miles and miles, down in the bottom by the 
 course of the little river, the face of the country was 
 changed. Here where a beautiful garden had stretched 
 down to the stream was a bed of gravel and sand;
 
 346 tup: work of the flood. 
 
 there whoi'e verdant meadows had lain were sheets of 
 mud; and in hundreds of places trees, plants, and the 
 very earth had been swept clear away down to where 
 there was only solid' rock. 
 
 When we reached the great embankment the main 
 part of the water was gone, and in the middle there 
 was the huge gap through which it had escaped. 
 
 "Too much water for so frail a dam," said Uncle 
 Jack sententiously. "Boys, we must not bemoan our 
 loss in the face of such a catastrophe as this." 
 
 We had no right, for to us the flood, exhausted and 
 spread by its eight-mile race, had been our saving, the 
 greater part of our destruction being by Are, for which 
 we should have recompense; while for the poor crea- 
 tures who had been in an instant robbed of home and 
 in many cases of relatives, what recompense could 
 there be! 
 
 The loss of life was frightful, and the scenes wit- 
 nessed as first one poor creature and then another was 
 discovered buried in sand and mud after being borne 
 miles by the flood, are too painful to record. 
 
 Suflicc it that the flood had swept down those eight 
 miles of valley, doing incalculable damage, and leaving 
 traces that remained for years. The whole of the loss 
 was never known, and till then people were to a great 
 extent in ignoi'ance of the power that water could 
 exercise. In many cases we stood appalled at the 
 changes made high up the valley, and the manner in 
 which masses of stonework had been swept along. 
 Stone was plentiful in the neighbourhood and much 
 used in building, and wherever the flood had come in 
 contact with a building it was taken away bodily, to 
 crumble up as it was borne along, and augment the 
 power of the water, which became a wave charged with 
 stones, masses of rock, and beams of wood, ready to 
 batter into nothingness every obstacle that stood in its 
 way.
 
 REPAIRING DAMAGES. 347 
 
 "It seems impossible that all this could be done in a 
 few minutes," said Uncle Dick. 
 
 "No, not when you think of the power of water," 
 said Uncle Jack quietly. "Think of how helpless one 
 is when bathing, against an ordinary wave. Then 
 think of that wave a million times the size, and tear- 
 ing along a valley charged with debris, and racing at 
 you as fast as a horse could gallop." 
 
 We came back from the scene of desolation ready to 
 make light of our own trouble, and the way in which 
 my uncles worked to help the sufferers down in the 
 lower part of the town gave the finishing touches to 
 the work of many months. 
 
 There was so much trouble in the town and away 
 up the valley, so much suffering to allay, that the 
 firing of our works by the despicable scoundrels who 
 worked in secret over these misdeeds became a very 
 secondary matter, and seemed to cause no excitement 
 at all. 
 
 " But you must make a stir about this," said Mr. 
 Tomplin. " The villains who did that deed must be 
 brought to justice. The whole affair will have to be 
 investigated, and I'm afraid we shall have to begin by 
 arresting that man of yours — the watcher Searby." 
 
 But all this was not done. Searby came and gave 
 a good account of himself — how he had been deluded 
 away, and then so beaten with sticks that he was glad 
 to crawl home; and he needed no words to prove that 
 he had suffered severely in our service. 
 
 "Let's set the prosecution aside for the present," 
 said Uncle Jack, "and repair damages. We can talk 
 about that when the work is gointj ae^ain." 
 
 This advice was followed out, and the insurance 
 company proving very liberal, as soon as they were 
 satisfied of the place having been destroyed by fire, 
 better and more available buildings soon occupied the 
 position of the old, the machinery was repaired, and
 
 348 PANNELL ADVISES. 
 
 in two months the works were in full swing once 
 more. 
 
 It might almost have been thought that the flood 
 swept away the foul element that originated the out- 
 rages which had disgraced the place. Be that as it 
 may, the burning of our works was almost the last of 
 these mad attempts to stop progress and intimidate 
 those who wished to improve upon the old style of 
 doino- thinsfs. 
 
 I talked to Pannell and Stevens about the fire after- 
 wards and about having caught sight of three men 
 landing from a raft and going down towards the river 
 just before the Hood came. 
 
 But they both tightened their lips and shook their 
 heads. They would say nothing to the point. 
 
 Pannell was the more communicative of the two, 
 but liis remarks were rather enigmatical. 
 
 " Men jynes in things sometimes as they don't like, 
 my lad. Look here," he said, holding a glowing piece 
 of steel upon his anvil and giving it a tremendous 
 thump. "See that? I give that bit o' steel a crack, 
 and it was a bad un, but I can't take that back, 
 can I?" 
 
 " No, of course not, but you can hammer the steel 
 into shape again." 
 
 " That's what some on us is trying to do, my lad, 
 and best thing towards doing it is holding one's 
 tonoue." 
 
 That spring my father and mother came down, and 
 tliat autumn I lei't ArrovvHeld and went to an engineer- 
 ing scliool for four years, after which I went out with 
 a celebrated engineer who was going to build some 
 iron railway bridges over one of the great Indian 
 rivers. 
 
 I was out there four years more, and it was with no
 
 POOR OLD PITER. 349 
 
 little pleasure that I returned to the old country, and 
 went down home, to lind things very little changed. 
 
 Of course my uncles were eight years older, but it 
 was singular how slightly they were altered. The 
 alteration was somewhere else. 
 
 " By the way. Cob," said Uncle Dick, " I thought we 
 wouldn't write about it at the time, and then it was 
 forgotten; but just now, seeing you again, all the old 
 strutioles came back. You remember the nioht of the 
 fire?" 
 
 " Is it likely I could forget it? " I said. 
 
 " No, not very. But you remember going down to 
 the works and finding no watchman — no dog." 
 
 " What ! Did you find out what became of poor old 
 Jupiter?" 
 
 " Yes, poor fellow ! The scoundrels drowned him." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " Yes. We had to drain the dam and have the mud 
 cleaned out three — four years ago, and we found his 
 chain twisted round a great piece of iron and the 
 collar still round some bones." 
 
 " The cowardly rufiians ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes," said Uncle Jack ; " but that breed of work- 
 man seems to be dying out now." 
 
 "And all those troubles," said Uncle Bob, "are 
 over." 
 
 That afternoon I went down to the works, which 
 seemed to have grown smaller in my absence; but they 
 were in full activity; and turning oft" to the new range 
 of smithies I entered one where a great bald-headed 
 man with a grisly beard was hammering away at a 
 piece of steel. 
 
 He did not look up as I entered, but growled out: 
 
 " I shall want noo model for them blades, Mester 
 John, and sooner the better." 
 
 "Why, Pamiell, old fellow!" I said. 
 
 He raised his head and stared at me.
 
 350 OLD FRIENDS. 
 
 " Why, what hev yow been doing to theeself, Master 
 John? " he said. " Thou looks— thou looks—" 
 
 He stopped short, and the thought suddenly came 
 to me that last time he saw me I was a big boy, and 
 that in eight years I had grown into a broad-shouldered 
 man, six feet one high, and had a face bronzed by the 
 Indian sun, and a great thick beard. 
 
 " Why, Pannell, don't you know me?" 
 
 He threw down the piece of steel he had been ham- 
 mering, struck the anvil a clanging blow with all his 
 might, shouted " I'm blest!" and ran out of the smithy 
 shouting: 
 
 "Hey! Hi, lads! Stivins— Gentles! The hull lot 
 on yo'! Turn out here! Hey! Hi! Here's Mester 
 Jacob come back." 
 
 The men who had known me came running out, and 
 those who had not known me came to see what it all 
 meant, and it meant really that the rough honest 
 fellows were heartily glad to see me. 
 
 But first they grouped about me and stared; then 
 their lips spread, and they laughed at me, staring the 
 while as if I had been some great wild beast or a 
 curiosity. 
 
 " On'y to think o' this being him!" cried Pannell; 
 and he stamped about, slapping first one knee and then 
 the other, making his leather apron sound again. 
 
 "Yow'll let a mon shek bans wi' thee, lad?" cried 
 Pannell. "Hey, that's hearty! On'y black steel," he 
 cried in apology for the state of his hand. 
 
 Then I had to shake hands all round, and listen to 
 the remarks made, while Gentles evidently looked on, 
 but with his eyes screwed tight. 
 
 "Say a — look at his arms, lads," cried Stevens, 
 who was as excited as everybody. "He hev growed 
 a big un. Why, he bets the three mesters 'cross the 
 showthers." 
 
 Then Pannell started a cheer, and so much fuss was
 
 PATIENCE WON. 351 
 
 made over me that I was glad to take refuge in the 
 office, feeling quite ashamed. 
 
 " Why, Cob, you had quite an ovation," said Uncle 
 Bob. 
 
 " Yes, just because I have grown as big as my big 
 uncles," I said in a half-vexed way. 
 
 " No," said Uncle Dick, " not for that, my lad. The 
 men remember you as being a stout-hearted plucky 
 boy who was always ready to crush down his weak- 
 ness, and fight in the cause of right." 
 
 " And who always treated them in a straightforward 
 manly way," said Uncle Jack. 
 
 " What ! do you mean to say those men remember 
 what I used to do?" 
 
 "Remember!" cried Uncle Bob; "why it is one of 
 their staple talks about how you stood against the 
 night birds who used to play us such cowards' tricks. 
 Wh}'-, Gentles remains Traiypy Gentles to this day." 
 
 "And bears no malice?" I said. 
 
 "Malice! Not a bit. He's one of our most trusty 
 men." 
 
 "Don't say that. Bob," said Uncle Jack. "We haven't 
 a man who wouldn't fight for us to the end." 
 
 " Not one," said Uncle Dick. " You worked wonders 
 with them, Cob, when you were here." 
 
 "Let's see, uncles," I said; "I've been away eight 
 years." 
 
 " Yes," they said. 
 
 " Well, I haven't learned yet what it is not to be 
 modest, and I hope I never shall." 
 
 "What do you mean?" said Uncle Dick. 
 
 "What do I mean!" I said. "Why, what did I do 
 but what you three dear old fellows taught me? Eh?" 
 
 There was a silence in the office for a few minutes. 
 No; only a pause as to words, for wheels were turning, 
 blades shrieking, water splashing, huge hammers thud-
 
 352 I AM MODEST. 
 
 ding, and there was the hiss and whirr of steam-sped 
 machines, added since I went away, for " Russell's," as 
 the men called our works, was fast becoming one of 
 the most prosperous of the small businesses in our 
 town. 
 
 Then Uncle Dick spoke gravely, and said: 
 " Cob, there are boys who will be taught, and boys 
 whom people try to teach and never seem to move. 
 Now you — " 
 
 No, I cannot set down what he said, for I profess 
 to be modest still. I must leave oli sometime, so it 
 shall be here. 
 
 THE END.
 
 BLACKIE & SON'S 
 BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 
 
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 as well as aniusenient."— .S'c/tooi Guardian. 
 
 The Dash for Khartoum: a Tale of tlie ^ile Expedition. 
 
 By G. A. Henty. With 10 page Illustrations by J. Schonberg and 
 
 J. Na.SH, and 4 Plans. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 " ft is literally true that tlio narrative never flags a moment; for the inciilents 
 which fall to be recnled after tlie dash fur Khartoum has been made and failed 
 are <piite as interesting as those which precede it."- Academy.
 
 BLACKIE X- SON'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 
 
 BY G. A. HENTY. 
 
 'Surely Mr. Heiity should understand boys' tastes ItUcr Uian any man living." 
 
 —The Times. 
 
 Reduced Illustration from " Wulf the .•ia.coa" 
 
 Wulf the Saxon: a Stmy of tlie Norni;m Conquest. By 
 G. A. Hentv. With 12 page Illustrations by Ralph Peacock. 
 Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6.9. 
 "The story shows Mr. Henty at his best."— Dailif CliriDiicIn. 
 " Wvlfthe Saxiin is second to none of Mr. TIenty's histurical tales, and we may 
 safely say that a boy may leai'n from it more genuine history than he will from 
 many a tedious tome. The ])r)ints of the Saxon (Hiaracter are hit off very happily, 
 and the life of the period is ably reconstructed." — The Spectator. 
 
 By Pike and Dyke: A Tale of the Rise of the Dutch Ee- 
 
 public. By (i. A.Mkniy. With 10 page Illustrations by Maynard 
 
 BuowN, and 4 Maps. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6*-. 
 
 •'The mission nf Ned to deliver letters fnnii William the Silent to his adherents 
 at Brussels, the fi'^ditnf the Good Venti're witli the .Sp^oiisli man-of-war. the battle 
 on the ice at Amstt rdaiii. the sieu^e of Haaikni, are all tidd with a vividn^.'ss and 
 skill whicli are wortliy of Mr. Henty at his best.." — Acttdemy.
 
 ULACKIE <l- SOX'S BOOKS FOR YOUXG PEOPLE. 
 
 BY G. A. HENTY. 
 
 " Among writers of stories of adventure for bojs Mr. Henty stands in the very 
 first rank." — Academy. 
 
 The Lion of St. Mark: a Tale of Venice in the Fourteenth 
 
 Century. JJy (J. ^V. Hentv. With 10 jjage Illustrations by Gordon 
 
 Browne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 " Every boy shouM read The Lion of St. Mark. 'Slv. Henty has never produced 
 any story more deliglitfiil, more whidesimie, or nmre vivacious. From first to 
 last it will be read with keen enjoyment."— T/ie Saturday Hevieiv. 
 
 By Eng-land'S Aid : The Freeing of the Netherlands (1585- 
 
 1604). By G. A. Henty. With 10 page lUustrations by Alfred 
 
 Pe.\RSE, and i Maps. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 "The story is told with great animation, and the historical material is most 
 effectively combined with a most excellent pl^^t."— Saturday Review. 
 
 Under Drake's Flag": a Tale of the Spanish Main. By 
 G. A. Henty. Illustrated by 12 page Pictures by Gordon Browne. 
 Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6.?. 
 
 "There is not a dull chapter, nor, indeed, a dull page in the book; but the 
 author has so carefully workeil up his siihject that the exciting deeds of his 
 heroes are never inconyruous or -AhftyniX." —Ohiserver. 
 
 Bonnie Prince Charlie: A Tale of Fontenoy and Culloden. 
 By G. A. Henty. With 12 page Illu.strations by Gordon Browne. 
 Crown 8vo, clotli elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 "Ronald, the hero, is very like the hero of Quentin Durward. The lad's 
 journey ai rnss France with liis faithful attendant Malcolm, and his hairbreadth 
 escar)es from the machinations of his father's enemies make up as good a 
 narrative of the kind as we have ever read. For freshness of treatment and 
 variety of incident, Mr. Henty has here surpassed hUnseU." —Sijectator. 
 
 " A historical romance of the best quality. Mr. Henty has written many more 
 sensational stories, but never a more artistic one." — Academy. 
 
 For the Temple: A Tale of the Fall of Jernsalem. By 
 G. A. Hentv. With 10 page Illustrations by S. J. Solo.mon, and 
 a Coloured Map. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 68. 
 
 " Mr. Henty's graphic pro.se pictures of the hopeless Jewish resistance to Roman 
 sway adds another leaf to his record of the fiunous wars of the world. The book 
 is one of Mr. Henty's cleverest eKovi%."— Graphic . 
 
 True to the Old Flag": A Tale of the American War of 
 Independeiic'-. I5y G. A. Henty. With 12 page Illustrations by 
 GoRt)ON Browne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 " Does justice tf» the pluck and determination of the British soldiers. The son 
 of an American loy:illst. who reiuiiins true to our flag, falls among the hostile red- 
 skins in tliat very Huron countiy which has been endeared to us by the exploits 
 of Hawkeye and Chiiigachgook." - The Tiuicn.
 
 DLACKIE d: SON'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG I'EOPLE. 
 
 BY G. A. HENTY. 
 
 'Mr. Heiity is the king of stuiy-tellers foi- \H>ys,." —toward and Trowel. 
 
 Reduced Illustration from "St. Bartlwlo mew's Eve' . 
 
 St. Bartholomew's Eve: a Tale of the Huguenot Wars. 
 
 By G. A. Henty. With 12 page Ilhistratioiis by H. J. Dkaper, 
 
 and a Map. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 "A really noble story, wiiieli ailnlt readers will find to the fnll as satisfjiny as 
 the boys. Lucky boys! t(j have such a caterer as Mr. G. A. Heuty." — Black and 
 Wliite. 
 
 With Clive in India: Or, The Beginnings of an Empire. 
 
 By (Jr. A. Henty. With 12 page Illustrations by Gokdon Browne. 
 
 Crown Svo, cloth elegant, (divine edges, 6s. 
 
 "Among writers of stories of adventure for boys Mr. Henty stands in the very 
 first rank Those who know somethinpr about India will be the most ready to 
 thank Mr. Henty for giving tliem this instructive volume to place iu the hands 
 of their chiUveu."— Academy.
 
 6 BLACK rn d- f^OyS BOOKS FOR VOITSG PEOPLE 
 
 BY G. A. HENTY. 
 " Air. Henty is one of our most successful writers of historical tales." — Scotsman. 
 
 The Lion of the North : A Tale of Gustavns Adolphus and 
 the Wars of lieligiun. By G. A. Hesty. With 12 page Pictures 
 by J. ScHOXBEKG. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 "A praiseworthy attempt to intere.st Britisli youtli in tlie great deeds of the 
 Scotch Brigade in the wars of Gnstavus .\dolphu&, JIackay, Hepburn, and Munro 
 live again in ilr. Henty 's pages, as those deserve to live whose disciplined liands 
 formed really the germ of the modern British army." — AthencBum. 
 
 The Young" Carthaginian: A Story of the Times of 
 
 Hannibal. By G. A. Hentv. With 12 page Illu.strations by C. J. 
 
 Staniland, K.I. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 " The effect of an interesting story, well constructed and vividly told, is en- 
 hanced by the picturesque riuality of the scenic background. From first to last 
 nothing stays the intere.st of the nanative. It bears us along as on a stream 
 whose current varies in direction, but never loses its iuTca."— Saturday Jleciew. 
 
 Redskin and Cow-boy: ATaleof the Western Plains. By 
 
 G. A. Hentv. With 12 page Illustrations by Alfred Pearse. 
 
 Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 "It has a good plot; it abounds in action; the scenes are equally spirited and 
 realistic, and we can rjuly say we have read it with much pleasure from first to 
 last. The pictures of life on a cattle raiiche are most grapfiically painted, as are 
 the manners of the reckless but jovial cow-boys." — Times. 
 
 In Freedom's Cause : a story of Wallace and Bruce. By 
 G. A. Henty. With 12 page Illustrations by Gordon Browne. 
 Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edgesj 6s. 
 
 "His tale of the days of Wallace and Bruce is full of stirring action, and will 
 commend itself to buys."— Athenceiim. 
 
 By Right of Conquest: Or, With Cortez in Mexico. By 
 
 (i. A. Henty. With 10 page Illustrations by W. S. Stagey, and 
 
 2 Maps. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 ••By Right of ContjiwHt is the nearest approach to a perfectly successful histori- 
 cal tale that Mr. Henty has yet published."— ylcade;/(>/. 
 
 In Greek Waters: A story of the Grecian W^ar of Inde- 
 pendence (1821-1827). By G. A. Henty. With 12 page Illus- 
 trations by W. S. Stacey, and a Map. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 
 olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 "There are a<lventures of all kinds for the hero and his friends, whose pluck 
 and ingenuity in extricating themselves from awkwanl fixes are always equal to 
 the occa.sion. It is an excellent story, and if the proportion of history is smaller 
 than usual, the whole result leaves nothing to be deiir^A."— Journal of Education.
 
 BLACKIE Jb soys BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 
 
 BY G. A. HENTY. 
 
 "No more interesting boys' bonks are written than Afr. Henty's stories." — 
 
 Daily Chronicle. 
 
 ThrOUg"!! the Fray: A Story of the Liuklite Riots. By 
 
 G. A. Hextv. With 12 page IHustrations by H. M. Paget. Crown 
 
 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6.s-. 
 
 " Mr. Heiity inspires a love and artniiration for straightforwardness, truth, and 
 cournije. 'I'his is one of tlie best of the many good books 'S\v. Heiity has produced, 
 and deserves to be classed with his Faciwj Death." —Standard. 
 
 Captain Bayley'S Heir: a Tale of the Gold Fields of Cali- 
 fornia. By G. A. Henty. With 12 page Illustrations by H. M. 
 P.vGET. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 "A Westminster boy who makes his way in the world by hard work, good 
 tenijier, and unfailing courase. 'i'he descriptions given of life are just what a 
 healtliy intelligent lad should delight in." — St. James's Gazette. 
 
 ThrOUg"h Russian Snows: A story of Napoleon'.s Eetreat 
 from Moscow. By G. A. He.n'TY. With 8 Illu.strations by W. H. 
 OvEREND, and a Map. Cro\vTi 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 
 The hero of this story, JuHan Wyatt, is a careless, good-natui"ed youth, 
 who becomes, quite innocently, mixed up with smugglers — when smugghng 
 was common in the south coa.'^t of England. The smugglers carry him to 
 France, and hand him over as a prisoner to the French ; but he subse- 
 quently recfains lii.s freedom by joining Napoleon's army in the campaign 
 against Rus.sia. The young Englishman takes part in the great battles of 
 Smolensk and Borodino, arriving at Moscow with the victorious Emperor. 
 Then, when the terrible retreat begins, Julian finds himself in the rear- 
 guard of the French army, fighting desperately, league bj' league, agaii.st 
 famine, snow-storms, wolves, and Ru.ssians. Ultimately he escapes, after 
 rescuing the daughter of a Russi.an Count; makes his way to St. Petersburg; 
 and then returns to England. A story this with an excellent plot, exciting 
 ailventures, and splendid historical interest. 
 
 In the Heart of the Rockies: A story of Adventure in 
 
 Colorado. By G. A. Henty. With 8 page Illustrations by G. C. 
 
 HiNDLEY'. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 
 " Few Christmas books will be more to the taste of the ingenuous boy than In 
 the Heart of the Ilockies." — .Ithen/eidii. 
 "Mr. Henty is seen hei'e at his best as an artist in lightning fiction, "—^carfemi/. 
 
 One of the 28th : A Tale of Waterloo. By G. A. Hentt. 
 
 With 8 page Illustrations by W. H. Overeno, and 2 Maps. Crown 
 
 8vo, cloth eleg.ant, olivine edges, .^.s. 
 
 " Written with ITonicric vigour and heroic inspiration. It is graphic, pictur- 
 esque, and dramatically etToctive . . . shows us Mr. Heiitv at his best and 
 brightest. The adveiitiu-es will hold a boy of a winter's night enthralled as he 
 rushes through them with hreatliless interest 'from cover to cover'." — Observer.
 
 DLACKIK .t- SOSS BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLK 
 
 BY G. A. HENTY. 
 
 "Ask for Henty, and see that you j^'et hhxi."— Punch. 
 
 The Cat of BubasteS: a Stoiy of Ancient Egypt. By 
 
 G. A. Hentv. With 8 page Illustrations by J. R. Weguelix. 
 
 Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 
 "The story, from tlie critical iiionieiit of the killing of the sacred cat to the 
 perilous exodus into Asia with which it closes, is very skilfully constructed and 
 full of exciting adventures. It is admiraldy illustrated."— ^'a<H;rfa!/ Jieoiew. 
 
 Maori and Settler: a story of the New Zealand War. By 
 
 ii. A. Henty. With 8 page Illustrations by Alfred Pe.\rse, and 
 
 a Map. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 
 "It is a hook which all young people, hut especially boys, will read with 
 avidity. —A thcna'uia. 
 
 •' A first-rate hook for hoys, hriinful of adventure, of humorous and interesting 
 conversation, and of vivid pictures of colonial liie."^Schoolma.'iter. 
 
 St. Georg^e for England : a Tale of CVe.ssy and Poitiers. 
 
 By U. A. Hexty. With 8 full-page Illustrations by Gordon 
 
 Browne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edge.s, 5s. 
 
 "A story of very {,'reat interest for ))oys. In his own forcible style the author 
 has endeavoured t(j show that determination and enthusiasm can accomplish mar- 
 vellous results; and that courage is generally aQcompanied by magnanimity and 
 gentlenes»."~PaU Mall Gazette. ' = j 
 
 The Bravest of the Brave: With Peterborough in Spain. 
 By G. A. Henty. With 8 full-page Pictures by H. M. Paget. 
 Crown Svd, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 
 "Mi: Henty never loses sight of the niornl purpose of his work— to enforce the 
 doctrine of courage and truth, mercy and lovini;Uin<lness, as indispensable to the 
 making of an English gentleman. IJritish lads will read The Biamst of the 
 Brave with pleasure and profit; of that we are (jnite sure." -Daily Telegraph. 
 
 For Name and Fame: Or, Thi.nigli Afghan Passes. By 
 
 G. A. Henty. With 8 full-page Illustrations by Gordon Browne. 
 
 Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edge.s, 5.s\ 
 
 "Not only a rousing story, rei)lete with all the varied forms of excitement of a 
 campaign, hut, what is still more useful, an account of a territory ami its iiibal)i- 
 tants which must for a long time jiossess a supreme interest for Englishmen, as 
 being the key to onr Indian ¥.m\,\vc."^Glaxg<nv Herald. 
 
 A Jacobite Exile: Being the Adventure.s of a Young Enolish- 
 
 man in the .Service of Charles XIT. of Sweden. By G. A. Henty. 
 
 With 8 page Illustrations by Paul Hardy, and a Map. Crown 
 
 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5«. 
 
 "Incident succeeds incident, and adventure i.s i)iled upon adventure, an<l at the 
 end the reader, be he boy or man, will have cxiicricnced breathless' enjoyment 
 in a romantic story that must have taught him mmk h at its close "—Ar "?/ and 
 riavy Gazette.
 
 BLACKIE it SOti'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 
 
 BY G. A. HENTY. 
 "Mr. Henty's books are always alive with moving incident." — Review of Reviews. 
 
 Condemned as a Nihilist : a Story of Escape from Siberia. 
 
 By G. A. Henty. With 8 page Illustrations by Walter Paget. 
 
 Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 
 "The best of this year's Henty. His narrative is more interesting than many 
 of tlie tales witli wliicli the pnljlic is familiar, of escai)e from Silieria. iJespiti; 
 their snperior claim to autlientieity tliese tales are without doulit no less fic- 
 titious than Mr. Henty's, ami he beats them hollow in the matter of sensations " 
 — Xational Oli.'<ertH'i\ 
 
 Orange and Green: a Tale of the Boyne and Limerick. 
 
 By G. A. Henty. With 8 full -page Illustrations by Gordon 
 
 Browne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5.9. 
 
 "The narrative is free from the vice of prejudice, and ripples with life as 
 vivacious as if what is being described were really passing before the eye . . . 
 Should be in the hands of every young student of Irish history. '—£«//«»•< Neios. 
 
 Held Fast for England: a Tale of the Siege of Gibraltar. 
 
 By G. A. Henty. With 8 page Illustrations by Gordon Browne. 
 
 Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5.s. 
 
 "Among them we would place first in interest and wholesome educational 
 value the story of the siege of Gibraltar. . . . There is no cessation of exciting 
 incident throughout the atory."— At henceum. 
 
 In the Reign of Terror: The Adventures of a Westminster 
 
 Boy. By G. A. Henty'. With 8 full -page Illustrations by J. 
 
 ScHoNBERQ. C^rown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 
 "Harry Sandwith, the Westminster boy, may fairly lie said to beat Mr. Henty's 
 record. His adventtnes will delight boys by the audacity and peril they depict. 
 The story is one of Mr. Henty's best." — Saturday Review. 
 
 By Sheer Pluck: a Tale of the Ashanti War. By G. A. 
 
 Henty. With 8 full-page Pictures by Gordon Browne. Crown 
 
 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 
 " Alorally, the book is everything that could be desired, setting before the boys 
 a bright and bracing ideal of the English gentleman. '—C^mtia?!. Leader. 
 
 The Dragon and the Raven: Or, The Days of King 
 
 Alfred. By G. A. Henty. With S page Illustrations by C. J. 
 
 Staniland, R.I. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 
 " A story that may justly be styled remarkable. Boys, in reading it, will be 
 surprised to find how .Ufreil persevered, througli years of bloodshed and times 
 of peace, to rescue his people from the thraldom (jf the Danes. We hope the 
 book will soon be widely known in all our schools." — Schoolmaster. 
 
 A Final Reckoning: A Tale of Bush Life in Australia. 
 
 By G. A. Henty. With 8 page Illustrations by W. B. Wollkn. 
 
 Crown Svo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5.s. 
 
 " All boys will read this story with eager and unHagging interest. The episodes 
 are in Mr. Henty's very best vein —graphic, exciting, realistic; and, as in all Mr. 
 Henty's books, the tendency is to the formation of an honourable, mauly, and 
 even heroic character."— £t;'Miut(//(u»t Post.
 
 10 BLACKIE cO SOS'S BOOKS FOR YOUXG PEOPLE. 
 
 BY G. A. HENTY. 
 
 "As publishers of bonks of adveiitiiie for boys Alessrs. Blackie & 6011 have no 
 superiors."— St. James's Gazette. 
 
 Facing" Death : Or, The Hero of the Vaughan Pit. A Tale ui 
 
 the Coal Mines. By G. A. Henty. With 8 page Pictures In- 
 
 OoiuiuN PiHowNE. Crown 8vo, clotli elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 
 " If any fatlior, j;"'lf;ither, clergyman, or schoohiiaster is on tlie look-out for a 
 good liook to give as a pieseiit to a boy wlio is wortli his salt, tliis is the book we 
 would rei-ouunend." — Standard. 
 
 A Chapter of Adventures: Or, Through the Bombard- 
 
 munt of Alexandria. By G. A. Henty. With 6 page Illustrations 
 
 by W. H. OvEREND. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3s. 6d. 
 
 "Jack Robson and his two companions have their fill of excitement, and their 
 chaptei- of adventures is so lirisk anil entertaining- we could have wislied it longer 
 than it is. " — Saturday Jievieiv. 
 
 Two Thousand Years Ag'O: Or, The Adventures of a Roman 
 
 Boy. By Professor A. J. Church. With 12 page Illustrations by 
 
 AnRiEN Marie. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 "Adventures well worth the telling. The book is extremely entertaining as 
 well as useful, and tliere is a wonderful freshness in the Roman scenes and 
 characters. " — The Times. 
 
 The Clever Miss Follett. By J. K. H. Denny. With 
 
 \-l page Illustrations by GERTRUDE D. Hammond. Crown 8vo, 
 cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 "Just the book to give to girls, who will delight both in the letterpress and 
 the illustrations. Miss Hammond has never done better work."— iiVuieitf of 
 Reviews. ^^^_ 
 
 BY ROSA MULHOLLAND. 
 
 Banshee Castle. By Eosa Mulholland. with 12 page 
 
 Illustrations by JoHN H. Bacon. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 
 olivine edges, Qa. 
 
 "One of the most fascinating of Miss Rosa Mulholland's many fascinating 
 st^iries. . . . 'I'he charm of the tale lies in tlie telling of it The three 
 hei-oincs are admirably diawn cliaracters."— ,lf/i(;//rt'"/(i. 
 
 " Is told witli grace, and liiightcned by a knowledge of Irisli folk-lore, making 
 it a perfect jiresent for a girl in her tanws."— Truth. 
 
 Giannetta: A Girl's story of Her.self. By Rosa Mulholland. 
 
 With 8 page Illustrations by Lockhart Bogle. Crown 8vo, cloth 
 
 elegant, olivine edges, hx. 
 
 "Oiannetta is a true heroine— warm-hearted, self-sacriflciiiL', and, as all good 
 women nowadays are, laigcly touched witli the enthusiasm of humanity. One 
 of the most attractive gift-books of tlie season."— 77(c Academy.
 
 BLACKIE cO SON'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. H 
 
 BY KIRK MUNROE. 
 
 At War with PontiaC: Or, The Totem of the Bear. By 
 
 KiKK jMunrok. With 8 page Illustrations by J. Finnemore. 
 Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, Ss. 
 
 Tliis is a story of old colonial days in America, when Detroit was a 
 fi'ontier fort, and the shores of Lake Erie were held by hostile Indians 
 inider Pontiac, their famous chief. The hero is Donald Hester, a young 
 English officer, who goes in search of his sister Edith, she having been cap- 
 tured by the redskins. Strange and terrible are his experiences ; for he is 
 wounded, taken prisoner, condemned to bo burned, contrives to escape, 
 •and is again captured. In all his adventures he finds a magic talisman in 
 the Totem of the Bear, which was tattooed on his arm in his childhood by 
 a friendly Indian ; while in the end there is peace between Pontiac and 
 the English, and Donald marries the great chief's daughter. One dares not 
 skip a single page in this most enthralling tale. 
 
 The White Conquerors of Mexico: a Tale of Toitec and 
 
 Aztec. By Kirk Munroe. With 8 page Illustrations by W. S. 
 
 Stacey. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, f>s. 
 
 " Mr. Munroe gives most vivid pictures of tlie religions and civil polity of tlie 
 Aztecs, and of everydaj' life, as he imagines it, in tlie streets and market-places 
 of the magnificent capital of Montezuma." — Tlie Tunes. 
 
 Hig-hwayS and High Seas: Cjril Harley'.s Adventures on 
 both. By F. Frankfort Moore. With 8 page Illustrations by 
 Alfred Pearse. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 
 "This is one of the best stories Jlr. Moore has written, perhaps the very best. 
 The exciting a<lventures are sure to attract boys." — Spectator. 
 
 " It is pleasant to come across such honest work as F. Frankfurt ^loore's Ilinh- 
 ways and Hiijh Seas. Captain Chink is a real achievement in characterization." 
 — Scots Observer. 
 
 A Fair Claimant: Being a Story for Girls. By Frances 
 Armstrong. With 8 page Illustrations by Gertrdde D. Hammond. 
 Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 
 " As a gift-book for big girls it is among the best new books of the kind. The 
 story is interestuig and natural, from first to last." — Westminster Gazette. 
 
 The Heiress of Courtleroy. By Anne Beale. With s 
 
 page Illustrations by T. C. H. Castle. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 
 
 olivine edges, 5s. 
 
 "We fan speak highly nf the grace with which 'Miss Beale relates how the 
 young ' Hriiess of Courtliniy ' hail such gnod iiitluonce over her uncle as to win 
 him from his intensely selfish \vays."~Giiur(lian.
 
 12 BLACKIE .t- SON'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 
 
 BY GEORGE MAC DONALD. 
 
 A Roug-h Shaking". By George Mac Ponald. With 
 
 12 pagf Illustrations by W. Parkinson. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, 
 
 olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 "One of the very t)est books for )>oj's that has been written. It is full of 
 material peculiaily well adapted for the young, containinj; in a marked deyrte 
 the elementts of all that is necessary to make up a peifect bojs' book."— 
 Teachers' A id. 
 
 At the Back of the North Wind. By Geo. Mac 
 
 DoNAi-D. With 7;") Illustrations by Arthur Hughes. Crown 8vo, 
 
 cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 
 " The story Is thoroiii^hly original, full of fancy and pathos. . . . We stand 
 with one fnot in fairyland and one on common earth." — The Times. 
 
 Ranald Bannerman's Boyhood. By Geo. Mac Donald, 
 
 With ;W Illustrations by Arthur Hughes. Crown Svo, cloth 
 
 elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 
 "The sympathy with Imy-nature in Ranald Banneniian'.'^ Buiihood is i)eifect. 
 It is a beautiful picture of childhood, teaching by its impressions and suggestions 
 all noble things. ' — British Quarterly Review. 
 
 The Princess and the Goblin. By George Mac Donald. 
 
 With ;i2 Illustrations. Crown Svo, cloth exti'a, 3s. 6fl. 
 
 "Little of what is wiittcn for children has the lightness of touch and jilay of 
 fancy which are characteristic of (iecuge Mac Donald's fairy tales. Mr. Arthur 
 Hughes's illustrati(Uisare all that illustrations should be." Manchester Guardian 
 
 The Princess and Curdle. By George Mac Donald. 
 
 With 8 page Illustrations. Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 "There is the finest and larest genius in this brilliant story. Upgrown people 
 would do wisely occasionally to lay aside their newspapers and magazines to 
 spend aTi h<iur with Curdle and the Princess." — Sheffield Independent. 
 
 BY HARRY COLLINGWOOD. 
 
 The Pirate Island : A Story of the South Pacific. By 
 
 Harry Collingwooo. With 8 page Pictures by C. J. Staniland 
 
 and J. K. Wells. CVown Svo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 
 " A capital story of the sea; indeed in our oiiinion the author is superior in some 
 respects as a marine novelist to the better known Mr. Clark Russell."— 77(e Times. 
 
 The Log" of the "Flying" Fish": A story of Aerial and 
 
 Subniarini; Advonture. I'.y Harry Colling wood. With 6 page 
 
 Illustrations by (ifjRDON Browne. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, 3s. 6c?. 
 
 "The Flijing Fish actually surpasses all Jules Verne's creations; with incred- 
 ible speed she Hies through the air, skims over the surface of the water, and darts 
 along the ocean bed. We strongly reconunend our school-boy friends to possess 
 themselves of her log." Atliend-iini. 
 
 *,* For other Books by Harry ColHngwood, see pages 21 and 23.
 
 BLACK! E ik SOX'S BOOKS FOR YOLWG PEOPLE. 13 
 
 BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN. 
 
 " Mr. Feiin staiuls in tlie foieniost rank of writers in this department. "—Z>a(7i/ 
 NeivH. 
 
 Quicksilver: Or, A Boy with no .Skid to liis AVheel. By 
 
 George Manville Fenn. With 10 page Illustrations by Frank 
 
 DadI). Crown Svo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, G.s. 
 
 " Quicksilrrr is littk' sliort of an inspiration. In it tliat prince of story-writers 
 for hoys -(■eorge .Manville Fenn -has surpassed liiniself. It is an ideal book for 
 a hoy's lilirary."- 7^(((('''f«i Teacher. 
 
 Dick O' the Fens: A Romance of the Great East Swamp. By 
 
 G. jManville Fknn. With 12 page Illustrations by Frank Dapd. 
 
 Crown Svo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 "We conscientiously helieve tliat lioys will find it capital reading. It is full 
 of incident and mystery, and the mystery is kept up tn the last moment. It is 
 licli in effective local colouring; and it lias a historical inteiest."— Twwes. 
 
 Devon Boys: A Tale of the North Shore. By G. Manville 
 
 Fe.n'n. With 12 page Illustrations by Gordon Browne. Crown 
 
 8 VI), cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 "An admirable story, as remarkable for the indiiiduality of its young heroes 
 as for tlie e.vcelleut descriptions of coast scenery and life in North Devon. It is 
 one of the best books we have seen this season." — Athenmuiii. 
 
 The Golden Mag^net: A Tale of tlie Land of the Incas. By 
 
 G. Manville Fenn. Illustrated by 12 page Pictures by Gordon 
 
 Browne. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6,s. 
 
 "There could be no more welcome present for a boy. Tliere is not a dull page 
 in the liook, and many will be read with breathless interest. 'The Golden Mag- 
 net' is, of course, the same one that attracted Raleigh and the heroes of West- 
 ward H(j!" — Journal a/ Education. 
 
 In the King-'S Name : Or, The Cmise of the Kestrel. By 
 
 G. Manville Fenn. Illustrated by 12 page Pictures by Gordon 
 
 Browne. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, Qs. 
 
 " Tlie best of all Mr Fenn's productions in this field. It has the great quality 
 of always ' moving on ', adventure following adventure in constant succession." — 
 Daily News. 
 
 Nat the Naturalist: A Boy's Adventures in the Eastern 
 
 Sea.s. By G. Manville Fenn. With 8 page Pictures. Crown Svo, 
 
 cloth elegant, olivine edges, o.s. 
 
 "This sort of book encourages independence of character, develops resource, 
 and teaches a boy to keep liis eyes upen."— Saturday Review. 
 
 Bunyip Land: Tlie Story of a Wild Journey in New Guinea. 
 
 By G. AEanville Fenn. With 6 page Illustrations by Gordon 
 
 Browne. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, 4.s. 
 
 " Mr. Fenn deserves tlie thanks of everybody for liaiutip Land, and we may ven- 
 ture to jiromise that a(iuiet week maybe reckoned on whilst the youngsters liave 
 such fascinating literature provided for their evenings' amusement."— fipeciator.
 
 14 BLACKIE X- SOS'S BOOKS FOR YOUXG PEOPLE. 
 
 BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN. 
 
 " No one can find his way to the hearts of lads more readily tlian Mr. Feun." — 
 Nottingham Guardian. 
 
 BrOWnsmith'S Boy: A Romance in a Garden. By G. 
 Manville Fkxx. With (3 page Illustrations. Crowu 8vo, cloth 
 elegant, 3s. Qd. 
 
 ■■ Mr. t'enn's hooks are anioni; the best, if not alto{;eth( r the best, of the stories 
 for boys. Mr. Fenn is at his best in Bivwnsinith's Boy." — Pictorial World. 
 
 *,* For other Books by G. Manvillb Fenn, see page 22. 
 
 BY ASCOTT R. HOPE. 
 
 Young" Travellers' Tales. By Ascott e. Hope. WiU. 
 
 tj lllu.^tratiuiis by H. J. Dk.\per. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3s. 6d. 
 
 " Possess a hi^'li vahie for instruction as well as for entertainment His quiet, 
 level liuniour bubbles up on every pat;e." —Daili/ Chronicle. 
 
 " Excitenitut and cheerful enjoyment )un tlirougli the hook."— Bookman. 
 
 The Seven Wise Scholars. By Ascott r Hope, with 
 
 nearly lUU illustrations by IxOEDON Browne. Cloth elegant, 5s. 
 
 "As full of fun as a volume of Punch; with illustrations, more laughter- 
 provoking than most we have seen since Leech died."— Sheffield Independent. 
 
 Stories of Old Renown: Tales of Knigbts and Heroes. 
 
 By AhcoTT 11. Hope. Witli 100 Illustrations by Gordon Browne. 
 
 Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3s. 6d. 
 " .\ really fascinating book worthy of its telling title. There is, we venture to 
 say, not a dull page in the book, not a story which will not bear a second read- 
 ing." — Guardian. 
 
 Under False Colours: A story from Two Girls' Lives. 
 By Sakah Douuney. With 6 page Illustrations by G. G. Kil- 
 burne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 4s. 
 
 "Sarah Doudney has no superior as a writer of high-toned stories— pure in 
 style and original in conception ; but we have seen nothing from her pen equal 
 in dramatic energy to tliis bdok." — Chrintiun Leader. 
 
 "Tliis is a cliarmintr .stnry, abounding in delicate touches of sentiment and 
 patlios. Its plot is skilfully contrived."— Sc&<»/;(a»t. 
 
 The Universe : < )rTl)e infinitely Great and thu Inlimtely J^ittle. 
 A Sketch of Contrasts in Creation, and Marvels revealed and 
 explained by Natural Science By F. A. PourwET, ji.d. With 
 272 Engravings on wootl, of which f*.'* arc full-page size, and 4 
 Coloured Illustrations. Twelfth Edition, medium 8vo, cloth ele- 
 gant, gilt edges, 7s. Gd.; also morocco antiijue, 16s. 
 " We cati hotjestly commend Professor Pouchet's book, which is admirably, as 
 
 it is copiously illustrated."— '/Vie Timea. 
 "Scarcely any book in French or in English is so likely to stimulate in the 
 
 young au interest in the physical lihuivnnena."— Fortnightly Review.
 
 BLACKIE X- SON'S BOOKS FOR YOUSG PEOPLE. 
 
 15 
 
 BY DR. GORDON STABLES. 
 
 For Life and Liberty: A Story of Battle by Land and 
 Sea. By Dr. Gordon 
 Stablks, R.N. With 8 
 Illustrations by Syd- 
 ney Paget, and a Map. 
 
 When in 1861 war was de- 
 clared in America between 
 the North and South, the 
 news greatly interested Os- 
 mond Lloyd, who was at 
 school in England. Being 
 of an adventurous spirit, 
 and having relations in the 
 States, the lad i-an away 
 from home with his chum 
 Kenneth Reid, and the two 
 made their way to Amei'ica 
 in the Mos(/ui(o. Here Os- 
 mond joined the Southern 
 army, while Kenneth entered 
 the navy, and their various 
 adventures in that great con- 
 flict are vigorous!}' set forth 
 in this narrative. Osmond 
 was in the army of the Poto- 
 mac, took part in all the 
 campaigns, and won praise 
 for his valour from the famous 
 general, "Stonewall" Jack- 
 son. 
 
 Reduced Illustration from "To Greenland' 
 
 To Greenland and the Pole. By Gordon Stables, m.d. 
 
 With 8 page Illustrations by G. C. Hindley, and a Map. Crown 
 
 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 
 "His Arctic explorers have the verisiniihtncie of life. It is one of the books 
 of the season, and one of tiie best Mr. Stables lias ever written."— 3'v»f/i. 
 
 Westward with Columbus. By Gordon Stables, m.d. 
 
 With 8 page Illustrations by A. I'eakse. Clotli elegant, 5s. 
 
 "We must place Westward with Colnmbxis among those books that all bojs 
 ought to read " — The Spectator. 
 
 Twixt School and Colleg-e: a Tnle of Self-reliance. By 
 
 (xOKDoN Stables, cm., .m.d., r.n. With 8 page Illustrations by 
 
 W. Parkinson. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 
 "One of th>! best of a jiroliru; wi-itor's books for boys, being full of iivactic-al 
 i'lstnictions as to keeping iiets. un<l iiicuUrates in a way whlfh a little recalls Miss 
 Edge worth's 'Frank' the virtue of self-reliance."— yKAe/Keam.
 
 16 BLACKU: ct- SOXS BOOKS FOR YOUXG PEOPLE 
 
 BY ROBERT LEIGHTON. 
 
 Olaf the Glorious. By Egbert Leighton. Witli 8 page 
 Illustrations by Kalph Peacock, and a Map. Crown 8vo, cloth 
 elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 "Is as {rood as anything of tlie kiml we have met with. Mr. LeiRlitiiii more 
 tliaii liiilds his own with Kidor Hau'^'ard and Bariiij; (h)nh\"—Tlie Titm x 
 
 " Among the l)ooks best liked hy boys of the sturdy English type few will take 
 a higher place than Oto/ ?/(e (r^onoMS " — I^'ational Observer. 
 
 The Wreck of "The Golden Fleece": The story of a 
 
 North Sea Fisher-boy. By Kobekt Leighton. With 8 page 
 Illustrations by F. Brangwyn. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, 5s. 
 " This story should add considerably to ilr. Leighton's high reputation. Ex- 
 cellent in every respect, it contains every variety of incident. The plot is very 
 cleverly devised, and the types of the North Sea sailors are capital."— 3'/ie Times. 
 
 The Pilots of Pomona: A story of the Orkney Islands. 
 By Robert Leighton. With 8 page Illustrations by John Leigh- 
 ton, and a Map. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 
 " A story which is (|uite as good in its way as Treasure Island, and is full of 
 adventure of a stirring yet most natural kind. Although it is primarily a boys' 
 book, it is a real godsend to the elderly reader. "—G?a.s(;oH' Ecening Times. 
 
 The Thirsty Sword: A story of the Norse Invasion of 
 Scotland (12t)2-6:3). By Robert Leighton. With 8 page Illus- 
 trations by A. Pearse. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, ;").■!. 
 "This is one of the most fascinating stories for hoys that it has ever been our 
 pleasin-e to read. From first to last the interest never flags. Boys will worship 
 Keiiric, who is a hero in every sense of the wovA." Schoolmaster. 
 
 BY G. NORWAY. 
 
 A Prisoner of War: A story of the Time of Napoleon 
 Bonaparte. By G. Norway. With 6 page Illustrations by Robt. 
 Barnes, a.r.w.s. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 'is. M. 
 " More hairbi-eadth escapes from death by starvation, by ice, liy fighting, *c , 
 
 were never before surmounted. . . . Tt is a Hne y&vn."— The Gvarduin. 
 
 The Loss of John Humble : What Lc<i to it, and what 
 
 Canit; of It. Jiy (i. XuiiWAV. With 8 page Illustrations by John 
 Schonberg. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 
 "This stoi-y will place the author at once in the front rank. Tt is full of life 
 
 and adventiu-e. The interest of the story is sustained without a bieak from first 
 
 to \a.%t" —Standard. 
 
 A True Cornish Maid. By G. Norway, with O ])age 
 Illu.strations by J. Finnemoke. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, 3.s. 6(7. 
 "There is some excellent reading. . . . Mrs. Norway brings before tlie eyes 
 of her readers the good Cornish folk, their speech, their manners, and then- ways. 
 A Trite Cornish Maid deserves U) be \>o\)\i\a.r"—Alhenmim.
 
 BLACKIK d; SON'S HOOKS FOR YOUNO PEOl'LE. 17 
 
 With the Sea King's: a Stoiy of tlie Days of Lord Nelson. 
 
 By Y. H. WiNDEK. With G page Illustrations by W. S. Stacky. 
 
 Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, is. 
 
 "Just the book to put into a boy's hands. Every chapter contains boardings, 
 cuttings out, fij;htin}i piiates, escapes of thrilling audacity, and captures by corsairs, 
 sufficient to turn thf (juiftest boys head, 'i'he story culminates in a vigorous 
 account of the battle of Trafalgar. Happy boys 1 "—The Academy. 
 
 Grettir the Outlaw : A Story of Iceland. By S. Baring- 
 Gould. Witli (> page Illustrations by M. Zeno Diemek, and a 
 Coloured Maji. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 4s. 
 
 " Is the boys' book of its year. That is, of course, as much as to say that it 
 will do for men grown as well as jnniors. It is told in simple, straightforward 
 English, as all stories should lie, and it has a freshness, a freedom, a sense of sun 
 and wind and the open air, which make it irresistible. " — National Observer. 
 
 Gold, Gold, in Cariboo : A story of Adventure in Britisli 
 Columbia. By Clivk ruiLLirrs-WoLLEY. With 6 page Illustra- 
 tions by G. C. HiNDLEY. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3.s-. 6(/. 
 
 "It would be dittieult to say too much in favour of Gold, Gold, in Cariboo. We 
 have seldom read a more e.veiting tale of wild mining adventure in a singularly 
 inaccessible country. There is a capital plot, and the interest is sustained to the 
 last page."— T/if Times. 
 
 A Champion of the Faith: a Tale of PHnce Hal and the 
 
 Lollards. By J. M. Cai.lwell. With 6 page Illustrations by 
 
 Herbkrt J. Draper. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, 4.s. 
 
 " Will not be less enjoyed than Mr. Hentys liooks Sir .John Oldcastle's pathetic 
 story, and the history of his brave young .squire, will make every boy enjoy this 
 lively story. " — London Quarterly. 
 
 BY ALICE CORKRAN. 
 
 Meg''S Friend. By Alice Corkran. With 6 page Illustra- 
 tions by KoBEKT Fowler. Crown Svo, cloth extra, Ss. Qd. 
 
 "One of Miss Corkran's charming books for girls, narrated in that simi)le 
 and picturesque style which marks the authoress as one of the first amongst 
 writers for young people. " — The Spectator. 
 
 Marg-ery Merton's Girlhood. By Alice Corkran. AVith 
 
 t) page Pictures by Gordon Browne. Cr. Svo, cloth extra, 3.v. Cul. 
 
 "Another book for girls we can warndy conmiend. There is a delightful 
 piquancy in the exijerienees and trials of a young English girl who studies 
 painting in Paris." Saitirday Iteririo. 
 
 Down the Snow Stairs: Or, From Good-night to Good- 
 morning. By Alice Corkran. With 60 Illustrations by Gordon 
 Browne. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, .3s. 6f/. 
 
 "A gem of the first water, bearing upon eveiy page the mark of genius. It is 
 indeed a Little Pilgrim's FTogress."— Christian Leader. 
 
 B
 
 18 BLACK IE X- soys BOOKS FOR YOUXG PEOPLE. 
 
 BY HUGH ST. LEGER. 
 
 Hallowe'en Ahoy! Oi, Lost on the Crozet Islands. By 
 Hugh St. Legek. With 6 Illustrations by H. J. Draper. 
 Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 4«. 
 
 This is the strange history of the derelict Ualloice'en, in which is set 
 forth : How she was found on the high-soas beyond the equator ; how it 
 befell tliat there was only a ghost on board ; how the ghost was captured ; 
 how the vessel was cast ashore on a desert island in the Southern Ocean ; 
 how the crew, being Englishmen, took the disaster cheerily; and how at 
 length, after many hardships and hairbreadth escapes, they floated their 
 stout craft, bringing her back safe again to old England. And in this 
 wonderful tale there is such wealth of fine enchantment that it will warp 
 the hungry school-boy from remembrance of his dinner. 
 
 Sou'wester and Sword. By Hugh St. Leger. With 6 
 page Illustrations by Hal Hurst. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 4s. 
 
 "As racy a tale of life at sea and war adventure as we have met with for some 
 time. . . . Altogether the sort of book that boys will revel in. " — Athenceum. 
 
 BY EDGAR PICKERING. 
 
 Two Gallant Rebels: a story of the (ireat struggle in La 
 Vendee. Jiy EuGAii I'lCKERiNG. With 6 Illustrations by W. H. 
 OvEREND. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3s. 6d. 
 These tsvo rebels are two English youths who are shipwrecked and cast 
 ashore in La Vendue, a province of France. Here they are rescued by the 
 inhabitants, and in gratitude for this assistance they join the Vend^ans 
 in their revolt against the French Republic. The two young fellows main- 
 tain the English character for pluck ia the various ambushes and battles 
 in which they take part; and even wlien captured and condemned to the 
 guillotine they contrive to escajjc by sheer reckless daring. 
 
 In Press-Gang" Days. By Edgar Pickering. With 6 
 Illustrations Ijy W. H. .Stacey. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3s. 6d. 
 
 " It is of Mari^vat we think as we read this delitditfnl story; for it is not 
 only a story of adventure with incidents well conceived and arranged, but the 
 characters are interesting and well-distinguished." — Academy. 
 
 An Old-Time Yarn: Wherein is set forth (livers desperate 
 
 niiscliaiiccs whicli Itcfell Aiitlmny Ingram and his shipmates in the 
 
 West Indies and Mexico with Hawkins and iJrake. B}' ICdgar 
 
 Pickering. Illustrated with (i page Pictures drawn by Alfred 
 
 Pearse. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3s. 6d. 
 
 "And a very good yarn it is, with not a dull page from first to last. There is a 
 flavour of Wcntwaid Ho! in this attractive huok."^ Eihicational Review. 
 
 Silas Verney : A Tale of the Time of Charles IL By Edgar 
 PiCKEKiNG. With 6 page Illustrations by Alfred Pearse. Crown 
 8vo, cloth elegant, 'ix. iid. 
 " Altogether this is an excellent story for hoys."— Saturday Review.
 
 BLACKIE d: SOXS BOOKS FOR YOUXG PEOl'LE 19 
 
 BY CHARLES W. WHISTLER. 
 
 A Thane of WeSSex: Being the Stoiy of the Great Viking 
 IJaid of Slf). By Cn.vuLES W. Whistler. With G Illustrations 
 by W. H. M.\RGETSON. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3.s-. 6rf. 
 
 The story of young Heregar, a thane in the old kingdom of Wessex. 
 Wherein is finely sot forth, — how he was falsely accused, and unfairly out- 
 lawed as a traitor; how in his wanderings he discovered the war-galleys 
 of the Vikings, and carried the War-arrow; how he withstood the raidnig 
 Danes at Bridgwater, and gathered the levies at Glastonbury; how he con- 
 trived an ambush, and completely defeated the Vikings at Parret mouth; 
 and how, at length, he was inlawed again, and in reward of his valour made 
 the King's Standard-Beai-er. That is the noble story of Heregar. 
 
 His First Kangaroo : An Australian Story for Boys. By 
 Arthur Ferres. With 6 Illustrations by Percy F. S. Spence. 
 Crovvn Svo, cloth elegant, 3s. 6cZ. 
 
 This is a story of adventure on an Australian cattle-station. Dick 
 Morrison accepts an invitation to spend a holiday in the bush, and has a 
 good time. A band of bush-rangers also make things lively, for on one 
 occasion the .station is "stuck up", while a young Scotsman is kidnapped 
 and rescued with difficulty. The story is full of healthy out-of-doors 
 adventure, in fresh and attractive surroundings. 
 
 Three Bright Girls: A story of Chance and Mischance. 
 By Annie E. Ak.m.stroxg. With 6 page Illustrations by W. Par- 
 kinson. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, 3s. 6rf. 
 
 "Anions many good stories for sirls tiiis is tnuloubteJly one of the very best." 
 — Teachers' Aid. 
 
 A Very Odd Girl: or, Life at the Gabled Farm. By Annie 
 E. Au.MhTKONG. Illustrated. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, 3s. 6f/. 
 
 "The book is one we can heartily recommend, for it is not only bright and 
 interesting, but also pure and healthy in tone and teaching."— r^e Lady. 
 
 The Captured Cruiser: By c. J. Hyne. illustrated by 
 
 Er.\NK BR.-vNinvyN. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, 3s. M. 
 
 "The two lads and the two skippers are admirably drawn. Mr. Hyne has 
 now secured a position in the first rank of writers of fiction for hoys."— Spectator. 
 
 Afloat at Last : a Sailor Boy's Log of his Life at Sea. By 
 
 John C. Hutcheson. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, 3s. 6rf. 
 
 "As healthy and breezy a book as one could wish to put into the hands of 
 a boy." — Academy. 
 
 Picked up at Sea: Or, The Gold Miners of Mintnrne Creek. 
 By J. ('. HuTCHESdN. With 6 page Pictures. Cloth extra, 3s. Qd. 
 
 Brother and Sister: Or, Tlie Trials of the Moore Family. 
 By Elizabeth .T. Lvsaoht. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, 3s. M.
 
 20 BLACKIE d: SOX'S BOOKS FOR YOUXG PEOPLE. 
 
 The Search for the Talisman: a stoiy of Labrador. 
 
 By Hkxkv FiUTH. With G page Illustrations by J. Schonberg. 
 
 Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3v. Qd. 
 
 " Mr. Frith's volume will be among tliose most read and highest valued. The 
 adventures among seals, whales, and icebergs in Labrador will delight many a 
 yoinig reader." — I'all Mall Gazette. 
 
 Reefer and Rifleman: a Tale of the Two Services. By 
 Lieut. -Col. Percy -Grove.s. With 6 page Illustrations by John 
 ScHiiNBERG. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3.s. fir/. 
 
 "A good, old-fasliiont'd. aiiiijhiliious story of our tielitini; witlitlie Frenchmen in 
 the beginning of our century, with a fair sprinkling of fun and lioXm'—Thnen. 
 
 Dora : Or, A Girl without a Home. By Mrs. R. H. Bead. AVitli 
 G page Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3.5. 6'/. 
 
 "It is no slight thing, in an age of rubbish, to get a st-ory so yiure and healUiy 
 as this." — ?'/i<; Academy. 
 
 Storied Holidays: A Cycle of Bed-letter Days. By E. S. 
 Brooks. With 12 page Illustrations by Howard Pyle. Crown 
 8vo, cloth elegant, ■>■■<. (jd. 
 " It is a downright good book for a senior boy. and is eminently readable from' 
 
 fll-af to hxr^t "—Srhii(,lii(U.<itcr. 
 
 ChivalriC Days: stories of Courtesy and Courage in tlie 
 Olden Times. By E. S. Brooks. With 20 Illustrations by 
 CtORT>ox Browne and other Artists. Crown 8vo, doth extra, 3s. &d. 
 
 " We liave seldr)ni come across a prettier collection of tales. These charming 
 stories of hoys and girls of olden days are no mere fictitious or imaginary sketches, 
 but are real and aclual records of their sayings and doings." — Literary World. 
 
 Historic Boys: Their Endeavours, their Achieven)ents, and 
 
 their Times. By E. S. Brooks. With 12 page Illustrations by 
 
 R. B. Birch and .John Schonberg. Crown 8vo, cloth e.xtra, 3s. 6f/. 
 
 " A wholesome book, manly in tone, its character sketches enlivened by brisk 
 dialogue and high-class illustrations: altogether one that should incite boys to 
 further ac(|uaintance with those rulers of men whose careers aie narrated. We 
 advise teachers to put it on their list of prizes."— Knowledge. 
 
 Dr. JollifFe's Boys: A Tale of Weston School. By Lewis 
 
 Hough. With 6 page Pictures. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, S.'?. 6f/. 
 
 "Young people who appreciate Tom Bromi'n !?cliool days will find tluH story a 
 worthy coni|>aiiion tf> that fascinating book. There is the same manline.ss of tone, 
 triithtnhiess of outline, avoidance of exaggeration and caricature, and healthy 
 morality a» characterized the masterpiece of Mr, Hughes."— Neiccattle Journal. 
 
 The Bubbling" Teapot, a AVonder story. By Mrs. L. w, 
 Champney. With 12 page Pictures by Walter SatteklhTE. 
 Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3.». 6cZ. 
 
 "Very literally a 'wonder story', and a wild and fanciful one. Nevertheless' 
 it is made realistic enough, and there is a good deal of infoimation to he gained 
 from it.".-The Tiniex.
 
 tiLACKlE .f; 5'OiYS HOOKS FOR YOUSG PEOPLE. 
 
 21 
 
 Thorndyke Manor: a Tale of Jacobite Times. By Mary 
 
 C. RowsELL. With 6 page Illustrations by L. Lk.slie Brooke. 
 
 Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3.s. &d. 
 
 "Miss RoHsell has never written a more attractive book than Thurndyke 
 Manor." — Belfast i^eivs- Letter. 
 
 Traitor or Patriot? a Tale of the Rye-House Plot. By 
 
 IMary C. Ruw.sei.i,. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, cloth, Ss. 6(/. 
 
 '• Here the Rye-Hmisu I'lut serves as tliu grduiidwdik for a nmiantic love 
 episode, wliose true charaiters are lifelike beings."— G'/n^z/Hc. 
 
 BLACKIE'S NEW THREE-SHILLING SERIES. 
 
 Beautifully Illustrated and Hainl.soiiiely Bound. 
 
 Hussein the Hostag-e: Or, a Boy's Adventures iu Persia. 
 
 By G. Norway. With 
 
 6 page Illustrations by 
 
 John Schonberg. Neio 
 
 Edition. Crown 8vo, 
 
 cloth elegant, 3s. 
 
 "Hussein the Hostafje is full 
 of originality and vip;oiir. The 
 chaiacters are lifelike, there is 
 plenty of stirring incident, the 
 interest is sustained tludiigli- 
 out, and every hoy will enjoy 
 following the fortinies of the 
 hero." — Journal of Education. 
 
 Cousin Geoffrey 
 
 and I. By Caroline 
 
 Austin. With 6 page 
 
 Illustrations by W. 
 
 Parkinson. JVcw E<I!- 
 
 tion. Crown 8vo, cloth 
 
 extra, 3s. 
 
 " Miss Austin's story is bright, 
 clever, and well developed." — 
 
 Saturday lieview. 
 
 The Congo Rovers: 
 
 A Story of the Slave 
 S(piadron. By Harry 
 
 COLLINGWOOI). With t) llfdlU-rd Ith'^lidlinil J,;,,il ■ Louslll ijrnji,; y". 
 
 page Illustrations by J. 
 
 ScHiiNBERG. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3s. 
 
 " Xo better sea story hns lately been written than the Conijo Hovers. It is as 
 origMial as any boy could desire." — Morning Post.
 
 22 BLACEIE a,- SOS'S BOOKS FOR YOUyG PEOPLE. 
 
 THREE-SHILLING SERIES— Continued. 
 
 Under Hatches: or, Ned Woodtliorpe's Adventures. By F. 
 
 Fkankfort Mouke. With 6 page Illustrations by A. Forestier. 
 
 Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3s. 
 
 "The story as a stmy is one tliat will just suit boys all the world over. The 
 characters are well drawn and consistent; Patsy, the Irish steward, will be found 
 especially amusing." — Schoolmaster. 
 
 MenhardoC: A story of Cornish Nets and Mines. By G. 
 
 ^Manvili.f: Fenn. With 6 page Illustrations by C. J. Staniland, 
 
 R.I. Crown Svo, cloth e.\tra, 3.v. 
 
 "They are real livini; boys, with their virtues and faults. The Cornish fisher- 
 men are drawn from life, and stand out from the pnjres in their jerseys and 
 sea-boots all sprinkled with silvery pilchard scales."— Spectator. 
 
 Yussuf the Guide: or, The Mountain Bandits. A Story of 
 
 iStrauge Ad\euture in Asia Minor. By G. Manville Fenn. With 
 
 6 page Illustrations by J. Schonberg. Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. 
 
 "Told with such real freshness and vigour that the reader feels he is actually 
 one of the party, sharing in the fun and facing the dangers."— Paii Mall Gazette. 
 
 Robinson Crusoe. With lOO illustrations by Gordon 
 
 liuowNE. Crown Svo, cloth extra, 2s. 
 
 "One of the best issues, if not absolutely the best, of Defoe's work which has 
 ever appeared."— T/ie Standard. 
 
 Gulliver's Travels. With lOO illustrations by GoEDON 
 
 IjEOWxe. Crowu Svo, cloth extra, 3s. 
 
 " Mr. Gordon Browne is, to my thinking, incomparably the most artistic, 
 spirited, and brilliant of our illustrators of books for boys, and one of the most 
 humorous also, as his illustrations of 'Gulliver' amply testify."— r/-M<A. 
 
 Patience Wins: or, War in the Works. By George Man- 
 ville Fenn. With 6 page Illustrations. Cr. Svo, cloth extra, 3s. 
 
 " Ifr. Fenn has never hit upon a happlei' plan than in writinc this story of 
 Yorkshire factory life. The whole book is all aglow with life." — Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 Mother Carey's Chicken: Her Voyage to the Unknown 
 
 Isle. By G. Manville Fenn. With 6 page Illustrations by A. 
 
 Forestier. Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3.?. 
 
 " Undoubtedly one of the best Mr. Kenn has written. The incidents are of 
 thrilliri'„' interest, while the characteis are drawn witli a care and completeness 
 rarely found in a boy's book." — Literaiy IVorlJ. 
 
 The Wigwam and the War-path: stories of the Eed 
 
 Indians. By AscoTT R. Hope. With 6 page Illustrations. Crown 
 
 Svo, cloth elegant, 3s. 
 
 "I» notably good It gives a very vivid picture of life among the Indians, 
 which will delight the heart of many a schoolboy." — Spectator.
 
 DLACKIE cD 30N-S BOOKS FOR YOU^G PEOPLE. 23 
 
 THREE-SHILLING SERIES— Continued. 
 
 The Missing Merchantman. By Harrv Collingwood. 
 
 With 6 page Illustrations by W. H. Overend. Cloth extra, 3s. 
 
 " One of the author's best sea stories. 1'he hero is as heroic as any boy could 
 desii'e, and the ending is extremely \\A\)\>y."—BiUiiih Weekly. 
 
 The Rover's Secret: A Tale of the Pirate Cays and Lagoons 
 
 of Cuba. By Harry Collingwood. With 6 page Illustrations by 
 
 W. C. Syjioxs. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3s. 
 
 " The Rover's Secret is by far tlie best sea story we have read for years, and is 
 certain to give unalloyed pleasure to boys." — Saturday Review. 
 
 Perseverance Island: or, The Eobinson Crusoe of the 19th 
 
 Century. By Douglas Frazar. With 6 page Illustrations. 
 
 Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 
 
 "Tliis is an interestintr story, written with studied simplicity of style, nuieh in 
 Defoe's vein of apparent sincerity and scrupulous veracity; while fm- practical 
 instruction it is even better than Robinson Crusoe." — Illustrated London News. 
 
 Girl Neighbours: or, Tlie OKI Fashion and the New. By 
 
 Sauah Tvtlek. With 6 page Illustrations by C. T. Garlaxd. 
 
 Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3s. 
 
 " One of the most effective and quietly humorous of ifiss Sarah Tytler's stories. 
 It is very healthy, very agreeable, and very well written." — The Spectator. 
 
 BLACKIE'S HALF-CROWN SERIES. 
 
 Illustrated by eminent Artists. In crown 8vo, cloth elegant. 
 
 A Musical Genius. By the Author of the "Two Dorothys". 
 Illustrated by JoHX H. Bacon. 
 
 Hugo Ricardo has a genius for the violin, and is adopted by a wealthy 
 musical amateur who has discovei-ed his special gift. The lad studies 
 hard, and fulfils the highest expectations of his new friend. But he never 
 quite forgets his humble, unselfish brother the conjurer ; and when he is 
 called upon to make choice between affection for his brother and a wealthy 
 home, he qiiickly chooses the former. The charm of this tale is in its 
 naturalness, and in the engnoing self-sacrifice of the two noble brother.*. 
 
 Fop the Sake of a Friend : a story of School Life. By 
 Margaret Parker. Illustrated by G. Demain Hammond. 
 Stories of school life are common enough, but this tale of a girls' school 
 in Melbourne is quite new. The vivacity of these Australian girls is not 
 less attractive than the home-like brightness and freedom of the school. 
 The heroine, Susie Snow, and her friend, Trixie Beresford, arc the sweetest 
 and cleverest of girls, and although there are jealousies, mistakes, and 
 misunderstandings among the pupils at Stormont House, yet all comes 
 right in the end.
 
 24 BLACKIE <t SON'S BOOKS FOR YOUJSG PEOPLE. 
 
 HALF-CROWN SERIES— Continued. 
 
 Under the Black Eag'le. By Andrew Hilliard. illus- 
 trated by W. BuLCHKU. 
 
 Ernest Wentworth is an English lad resident in Russia, and his great 
 chum is a student called Gregoneff. As this student has secret dealings 
 with Nihilists, the two friends become suspected of plots, and the final 
 result is that both are apprehended, and exiled to Siberia. On the journey 
 they contrive to leap from the convict-steamer, swim ashore in the dark- 
 ness, escape from their pursuers, and make their way across " the Roof of 
 the World " into Northern India. 
 
 The Secret of the Australian Desert. By Ernest 
 
 F.vvENi'. With 4 Il]ustrati(jns by Percy F. S. Spence. 
 Three white men, and a blackfellow called Billy Buttons, start on an 
 exjjcdition into the great Australian desert. Strange, uncanny, and ter- 
 rible are their experiences in that vast wilderness. They meet with the 
 cannibal Warlattas; find a mysterious burning mountain ; discover traces 
 of the lost explorer. Dr. Leichhardt ; and only arrive back at theii- cattle- 
 station after long and grievous wandering in the waterless desert. The 
 vivid actiiality of this enthralling narrative is due to the fact tlmt the 
 author has taken the material from his own thrilling experiences. 
 
 A Little Handful. By Harriet J, Scripps. 
 
 •• He is a leal tvjn- of a hoy."'~The Schoolmaster. 
 
 A Golden Ag-e : A story of Four Merry Children. By Ismav 
 Thoh.n. Illustrated by Gordon Browne. 
 " Ought to have a place of honour on the nursery shelf.'— 27ie AthencKum. 
 
 A Roug-h Road: or, How tlie Boy Made a Man of Himself. 
 Jjy Mrs. (>. l.i.NN.EUs B.vnks. 
 "Mrs. Banks has not written a better book than A Rnvgh Road." —Spectator. 
 
 The Two Dorothys. By Mr.s. Herbert Martin. 
 
 " X Ijook tliat will interest and please all girls." — The Lady. 
 
 Penelope and the Others. By Amy Walton. 
 
 " riiis is a cliarniin;; Ixiok for cliiMien. Miss Walton proves herself a perfect 
 ailept in understanding of school-room joys and sorrows. " — Christian Leader. 
 
 A Cruise in ClOUdland. By Henry Frith. 
 
 " A tljoioii'.;hly iiiti-ie.-tiiiu story." — St. James's Gazette. 
 
 Marian and Dorothy. By Annie E. Armstrong. 
 
 " This is distinctively a book for girls. A bright wholesome &toiy."— Academy. 
 
 StimSOn'S Reef: a Tale of Adveutm-e. By C. J. Hyne. 
 
 "It may almost vie with Mr. K. L. Stevenson's Treasure Island."— Guardian. 
 
 Gladys Anstruther. By Louisa Thompson. 
 
 • It ij a clever book ; novel ami stiiking in Die highest degree "—ScAooZmi8«re«s.
 
 UL.ICKIE it soys LOOKS FOR YObWG t'BOPLt:. 
 
 HALF-CROWN SERIES-Continued. 
 
 BY BEATRICE HARRADEN. 
 
 Bv Bkatrke Haiip.adk^ 
 
 Things Will Take a Turn 
 
 With 44 Illiistnitic.iis 
 by John H. Bacon. 
 Crown 8vo, cloth ele- 
 gant, 2s. 6(/. 
 
 " Peiiiaps the most hril 
 liaiit is TJiuijs Will Take a 
 Turn. ... A tale of humble 
 cliiUl life ill Ka-t [.nnddii It 
 is ii delif;litful li]eii<lili'-r <if 
 lometly iuni tiafjtedy, with an 
 e.xcellcnt plut." — The Tiinen. 
 
 The Whispering- 
 Winds, ;ii)(l tlie 
 Tales tliat they Told. 
 By RIaky H. Deben- 
 HAJI. With 25 Illus- 
 trations by Paul 
 Hardy. Crown 8vo, 
 cloth elegant, 2s. 6f/. 
 
 "We wish the winds would 
 tell us stories like these. It 
 wouM he woitli while to climb 
 Primriise Hill, or even to the 
 }ri<idy lieij^hts of Hainpstead 
 Heath in a bitter east wind, 
 if we could oidy be sure of 
 hearing such a sweet, sad, 
 tender, and stirring story as 
 tliat of Hilda Brave Heart, or 
 even one tliat was half so 
 good."— >4c«rfc//ii/. From " Things u'ill Take a Tani". (^Reduced) 
 
 Hal Hungerford. By J. E. Hutchinson, b.a. 
 
 '• Altogetlier, Hal Hungerford is a distinct literary success."— Spectator. 
 
 The Secret of the Old House. By E. Everett-Green. 
 
 ■•'I'iin, the little .lacobite, is a cliunning creation."— .4(;«'7<'j;(i/. 
 
 The Golden Weathercock. By Julia i^oddard. 
 
 '■ A cleverly conceived quaint story, ingeniously written."— Sa(i(crfoi/ Review. 
 
 White Lilac: or, The Queen of the May. By A. my Wai.tu.v. 
 
 •• Every rural ii.uish ought to add White Lilac to its library."— vl <.•«(/(•//()/. 
 
 Miriam's Ambition. By Evelyn Everett-Green. 
 
 '• Miss Green's ihildreii are real British boys and sh-\s."-'Liverpuul Mercimj. 
 
 The Brig "Audacious". By Alan Cole. 
 "Fresh and wholesome as a breath of sea air."— Cow/i Journal.
 
 20 DLACRlE <jfc soli's nooks FOR YOCSti I'EOl'LR. 
 
 HALF-CROWN SERIES-Continued. 
 
 The Saucy May. By Henry Fkith. 
 
 '• Mr. Kritli jrivesa new picture of life on tlie ocean wave." — Sheffield Independent. 
 
 Jasper's Conquest. By Elizabeth J. Lysaght. 
 
 "Out; of the liest Ixiys Imoks of tlie sea.&on."— Schoolmaster. 
 
 Little Lady Clare. By Evelyn Everett-Green. 
 
 "Keminils us in its quaintness of Mrs. Ewing's delightful tales." — Liter. World. 
 
 The Eversley Secrets. By Evelyn Everett-Green. 
 
 " \\''\ Kvur.-^li-y is a v, rv timcldiig |>ictuie of higli principle." — Guardian. 
 
 The Hermit Hunter of the Wilds. By G. Stables, r.n. 
 
 " Will gladden the heart of many a bright boy." — Methodist Recorder. 
 
 Sturdy and Strong". By G. A. Henty. 
 
 " .\ 111 TO ulio stands as a.Lrond instanceof chivalry in domestic life " — The Empire. 
 
 Gutta Percha Willie. By George Mac Donald. 
 
 '• Get it for your boys and girls to read for themselves." — Practical Teacher. 
 
 The War of the Axe : Or, Adventures in South Africa. By 
 J. Pkuuy-Gkoves. 
 "The story is well and brilliantly told." — Literary World. 
 
 The Lads of Little Clayton. By e. Stead. 
 
 ■ • A ca[)ital book for boys. " — Schooliiiaster. 
 
 Ten Boys wlio lived on the Eoad from Long Ago to Now. 
 By Jane Andrews. With 20 Illustrations. 
 " The idea is a very happy one, and admirably carried out."— Practical Teacher. 
 
 A Waif of the Sea: Or, The Lost Found. By Kate Wood. 
 
 •■ W litten witli tenderness and grace." — Momiyiy Advertiser. 
 
 Winnie's Secret. By Kate Wood. 
 
 " One of the l>est story-books we have read." — Schoolmaster. 
 
 Miss WillOWburn's Offer. By Sarah Doudney. 
 
 " I'aticnci- WillowliiirM is one of Miss Doudney's best creations."— .Specfator. 
 
 A Garland for Girls. By Louisa M. Alcott. 
 
 " 'I'hese little tales are the beau ideal of girls' stories."— C/trt.s<i«)i World. 
 
 Hetty Gray: Or, Nobody's Bairn. By Rosa Mulholland. 
 " Hetty iH a delightful creature— piquant, tender, and true."— World. 
 
 Brothers in Arms: A story of the Crusades. By F. Bay- 
 
 yiHU) IfAKKISd.V. 
 "Sure to prove interesting to young people of both sexes." — Guardian. 
 
 Miss Fenwick's Failures. By Esme Stuart. 
 
 " .\ .'ill true {■• real lif.-. who will put no nonsense into young heads."— GrapAic. 
 
 Gytha'S Message. By Emma Leslie. 
 "This is the sort of book that all girls like."— yow/iai of Education.
 
 BLACKIE cL- SON'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 
 
 27 
 
 HALF-CROWN SERIES— Continued. 
 
 By Skelton Kuppord. Illus- 
 
 Hammond's Hard Lines. 
 
 trated by Harold 
 Copping. 
 
 " The story is very clever 
 and provocative of laughter. " 
 — Standard. 
 
 " It is just what a boy would 
 choose if tlie selection of a 
 story-book is left in his own 
 hand." — School Guardinn. 
 
 DulcieKing: a story 
 
 for Girls. By M. 
 Corbet - Seymour. 
 Illustrated by Gkr- 
 
 TRUDE D. Ha.M.MOND. 
 
 "An extremely graceful, 
 well-tolil taleo' domestic life. 
 . . . The heroine, Dulcie, is a 
 charming person, and worthy 
 of the good fortune which she 
 causes and shares." — Guar- 
 dian. 
 
 Hugrh Herbert's In 
 heritance. By 
 
 Caroline Austin. 
 With 4 page Illus- 
 trations by C. T. 
 Garland. 
 
 "Will please by its simpli- 
 city, its tenderness, and its 
 healthy interesting motive. It is admirably written." — Scotsman. 
 
 Nicola: The Career of a Girl Muiiir-i.ni. By M. Corbet-Sey- 
 mour. Illustrated by Gektrude D. Haji.MOND. 
 
 Jack O' Lan thorn : a Tale of Adventure. By Henry Frith. 
 
 My Mistress the Queen. By M. A. Paull. 
 The Stories of Wasa and Menzikoff. 
 Stories of the Sea in Former Days. 
 Tales of Captivity and Exile. 
 Famous Discoveries by Sea and Land. 
 Stirring" Events of History. 
 Adventures in Field, Flood, and Forest. 
 
 "It would be difficult to place in the hands of yountr people books which 
 combine interest and instruction in a higher degree." — Manchester Courier. 
 
 Reduced Illustration from " Hammond's Bard JAneg
 
 28 liLACKIE A SOX'S BOOKS FOR YOUSG PEOPLE. 
 
 BLACKIE'S TWO-SHILLING SERIES. 
 
 Illustrated by eminent Artists. In crown 8vo, cloth elegant. 
 
 XEW VOLUMES. 
 
 In the Days of Drake. Being the Adventures of Humphrey 
 Salkeld. By J. y. Fletchek. With Illustrations by W. S. Stagey. 
 
 Wilful Joyce. P>y W. L. Roofer. Illustrated by Harold 
 
 ( '(il'PIXc. 
 
 Proud Miss Sydney. By Geraldine Mockler. illustrated 
 l)y G. Deiiain Hammond. 
 
 The Girleen. By Edith Johnstone. Illustrated by Paul 
 IIakdv. 
 
 The Org-anist's Baby. By Kathleen Knox. 
 School-Days in France. By An Old Girl. 
 
 The Ravensworth Scholarship: A High School Story 
 
 fmfiirls. ]5y I\Ii«. Hkmiv Clauke. 
 
 Queen of the Daffodils : A story of High School Life. By 
 Leslie Laing. 
 
 Raff's Ranche: a story of Adventure among Cow-boys and 
 Jiiiliiuis. Ijy I''. ]\r. IToL.MKS. 
 
 An Unexpected Hero. By Eliz. .l Lvsaght. 
 
 The Bushrang-ers Secret. By Mrs. Henry Clarke, m. a. 
 The White Squall. By John C. Hutcheson. 
 
 The Wreck of the "Nancy Bell". By J. c. Hutcheson. 
 The Lonely Pyramid. By j. H. Toxall. 
 
 Bab: or, The Triunipli of Unselfishness. By Ismay Thorn. 
 Brave and True, and other stories. By Gregson Gow. 
 The Lig-ht Princess. By George Mac Donald. 
 
 Nutbrown Rog-er and I. By J. ll. Yoxall. 
 
 Sam Silvan's Sacrifice. By Jesse Colman. 
 
 Insect Ways on Summer Days in GaKhn, Forest, Field, 
 
 ami Strt;am. Jjy .Je.n.neit llu.MruKEV.s. With 7U Illustnitiuns. 
 Susan. By Amy Walton. 
 A Pair of Clog's. By Amv Walton. 
 The Hawthorns. By Amv Walton. 
 Dorothy's Dilemma, i'.y Caroline Austin.
 
 ULACKIE d- SOX'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG rEOl'LE. 29 
 
 TWO-SHILLING SERIES-Continued. 
 
 Marie's Home. By Caroline Austin. 
 
 A Warrior King". By J. Evelyn. 
 
 Aboard the "Atalanta". By Henry Frith. 
 
 The Penang Pirate. By John c. Hutcheson. 
 
 Teddy: The Stnry nf a - Little Pickle ". By John ( ,'. Hutcheson. 
 
 A Rash Promise. By Cecilia Selby Lowndes. 
 
 Linda and the Boys. By Cecilia Selby Lowndes. 
 
 Swiss stories for Children. From the German of Madam 
 Johanna Spyri. By Lucv Wheelock. 
 
 The Squire's Grandson. By J. M. Callwell. 
 
 IWag'na Charta Stories. Edited by Arthur Gilman, a.m. 
 
 The Wing's of Courag'e; and The Cloud -Spinner. 
 Tnuislatfcl fniin tlie J''rfiic]i of Ueorge Sand, by Mrs. Cokkran. 
 
 Chirp and Chatter: Or, Lessons from Field and Tree. 
 By Alice Banks. With ,'')4 Illustrations by Gord(jn Browne. 
 
 Four Little Mischiefs. By Rosa Mulholland. 
 
 New Lig'ht through Old Windows. By Gregson Gow. 
 
 Little Tottie, .md Two Utlier Stories. By Thomas Archer. 
 Naug-hty Miss Bunny. By Clara Mulholland. 
 
 Adventures of Mrs. Wishing'-to-be. By Alice Corkran. 
 
 The Joyous Story of TotO. By Laura E. Eichards. 
 Our Dolly : Her Word.s and Ways. By Mrs. R. H. Read. 
 Fairy Fancy : What she Heard and Saw. By Mrs. Read. 
 
 BLACKIE'S EIGHTEENPENNY SERIES. 
 
 With Illustrations, hi crown 8vo, cloth elegant. 
 
 NEW VOLUMES. 
 
 The Little Girl from Next Door. By Geraldine Mockler. 
 
 Uncle Jem's Stella. By Autln.r uf the "Two Dorothys". 
 The Ball of Fortune, By C. Pearse. Neiv and cheaper Edition. 
 The Family Failing-. By Darley Dale. New and Cheaper Edition. 
 Warner's Chase: Or, The Gentle Heart. By Annie S. Swan. 
 
 Xcir Edition. 
 
 Climbing the Hill. By Annie S. Swan. New Edition. 
 Into the Haven. By Annie S. Swan.
 
 30 
 
 BLACKIE <t SON'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 
 
 THE EIGHTEENPENNY SERIES.— Continued. 
 
 Olive and Robin: or, A Journey to 
 -No\>)ifie. By the autlior of "'I'lie 
 1 wo Dorothys". 
 
 Mona's Trust: A story for Girls. 
 rK.NtLoi'K Leslie. 
 
 By 
 
 \ Reduced Specimen of the IllugtratUms.] 
 i' 11)111 "Pleasures and Pranks". 
 
 Little Jimmy: A Story of Ailveuture. 
 
 I'.y Kev I). KKEJoNKS. M.A. 
 
 Pleasures and Pranl<s. By Isa- 
 
 l!KI,f.A I'EAnsiiN. 
 
 In a Stranger's Garden : A Story 
 for lioy.s ami Girls. Jiy CoN.STANCK 
 (•(•.Ml.Nf;. 
 
 A Soldier's Son: 'J'he Story of a r.oy 
 who Succeeded. By ANNETTE Lys- 
 TEli. 
 
 Miscliief and Merry-making. \'-y 
 
 IsABKI.r.A I'EAKf-'ON. 
 
 Wild Meg and Wee Dickie. By 
 
 .MaIvY l\. lldl'KS. 
 
 Grannie. By Elizabeth J. Lysaght. 
 Tlie Seed Shie Sowed. By Emma 
 
 LK^^LIE. 
 
 Unlucky : A Frngmejit of a 
 liiii s fjfe. By CAROLINE 
 
 Austin. 
 
 Every body's Business: Or, A 
 Friend in Need. By ISMAT 
 
 1'iloRN. 
 
 Tales of Daring and Dan- 
 ger. I5y G. A He.ntv. 
 
 The Seven Golden Keys. By 
 
 .IA.MES E. AKNXlLD. 
 
 The Story of a Queen. By 
 
 Maky C. Kuwsell. 
 
 Edwy : Or, Was he a Coward? 
 J5y Annette Lyster. 
 
 The Battlefield Treasure. 
 
 liy V i;AVK(ii!i>flAma.soN. 
 
 Joan's Adventures at the 
 North Pole. By Alice 
 
 ('nl:Kl;AN. 
 
 Filled with Gold. By J. Per- 
 
 KKTT. 
 
 Our General : A Story for 
 
 fiirls. By ELIZABETH J. 
 Lysaght. 
 
 Aunt Hesba's Charge. By 
 
 i;i,iy.AIiETll .1. Ly.saoht. 
 
 By Order of Queen Maude: 
 A Story of Home Life. By 
 Louisa Crow. 
 
 The Late Miss Hollingford. 
 
 liy Itli.SA .\ll I.IIDI.LAM). 
 
 Our Frank. By Amy Walton. 
 
 A Terrible Coward. By 
 
 (i. .Manvii.i.e Fe.nn. 
 
 Littlebourne Lock. 
 
 ilAlua.'iON. 
 
 By F. BAYFORD 
 
 Yarns on the Beach. By G. A. 
 
 II K.N TV 
 
 Tom Finch's Monkey. By J. C. 
 
 HUTi'llKSli.S'. 
 
 Miss Grantley 's Girls, and the Stories 
 slic Tcjld 'I'hcMi. ByTlIo.s. ARCHER. 
 
 The Pedlar and his Dog. By Mary 
 
 ('. Kow.SELL. 
 
 Town Mice In the Country. By 
 ,\I E, Francis. 
 
 Phil and his Father. 
 
 'I'llollN. 
 
 Prim's Story. 
 
 By Ismat 
 By L. E. Tidleman.
 
 BLACK IE d- SON'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 
 
 31 
 
 EIGHTEENPENNY SERIES— Continued. 
 
 Down and Up Again. By Gkegson 
 
 (JCIW. 
 
 Madge's Mistake. By Annij: E. 
 
 .Vlt.MSTKuNi; 
 
 The Troubles and Triumphs of 
 Little Tim. By GKKcisoN Guw. 
 
 The Happy Lad: A .story of Peasant 
 Lite 111 .M.iw;iy. ByB. BJoRNSON. 
 
 A Box of Stories. Patkcd for Young 
 l'.,lk l.> IlnKACE Hapi-yman. 
 
 The Patriot Martyr, and other Nar- 
 ratives of I'ernale Heroism. 
 
 LIBRARY OF FAMOUS BOOKS FOR 
 BOYS AND GIRLS. 
 
 In Crown 8vo. Illustrated. Cloth extra, 1.?. 6d. each. 
 
 The Cruise of the Midge. M. Scott. 
 Lives and Voyages of Drake and 
 
 Cavendish 
 Edgeworth's Moral Tales. 
 Marryafs The Settlers in Canada 
 Michael Scott's Tom Cringle's Log. 
 White's Natural History of Sel- 
 
 borne. 
 Waterton's Wanderings in S. 
 
 America. 
 Anson's Voyage Round the World. 
 Autobiography of Franklin. 
 Lamb's Tales from Shakspeare. 
 Southey's Life of Nelson. 
 Miss Mitfords Our Village. 
 
 Two Years Before the Mast. 
 
 Marryat's Children of the New 
 Forest. 
 
 Scott's The Talisman. 
 
 The Basket of Flowers. 
 
 Marryat's Masterman Ready. 
 
 Alcott's Little Women. 
 
 Cooper's Deerslayer. 
 
 The Lamplighter. By Miss Cum- 
 mins. 
 
 Cooper's Pathfinder. 
 
 The Vicar of Wakefield. 
 
 Plutarch's Lives of Greek Heroes. 
 
 Foe's Tales of Romance and Fan- 
 tasy. 
 
 Also a large selection of Rewards at a .^/iillinf/, Xinepence, Sixpevce, 
 and Fourpence. A complete list will he sent post free on appli- 
 cation to the Publishers. , 
 
 The Best Book for Children. 
 
 Laug"h and Learn: The Easiest Book of Nur.sery 
 
 Lessons and Nur.sery Games. By Jennictt Hcmphreys. 
 
 Profusely Ilhistrated. 8'|uare 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
 
 "One of the best books of the kind iniairinable. full of practical teach- 
 ing; in word and picture, and hel|)in!r the little ones pleasantly along a 
 right royal road to learning. " — Graphic. 
 
 LONDON: 
 BLACKIE & SON, Limited, 50 OLD BAILEY, E.G.
 
 Hr. ACLAND says: — 
 
 "There ought to be in connection with every elementary school a 
 good library, in which you can lend children the best books which 
 are available to the richest children in the country." 
 
 BLACKIE'S 
 
 SCHOOL AND HOHE LIBRARY. 
 
 Under the above title tlie [niblishers have arranged to issue, for 
 School Libraries and the Home Circle, a selection of the best and most 
 interesting books in the English language. The Library will include 
 lives of heroes, ancient and modern, records of travel and adventure by 
 sea and land, fiction of the highest class, historical romances, books of 
 natural history, and tales of domestic life. 
 
 The greatest care will be devoted to the get-up of the Library. The 
 volumes will be clearly printed on good paper, and the binding made 
 specially durable, to withstand the wear and tear to which well-circu- 
 lated books are necessarily subjected. 
 
 hi cro-<v)i Svo 'c'ohanes. Strongly hound in imperial clotli. Price is. 4ii. each. 
 
 Dana's Two Years before the Mast. 
 
 Southey s Life of Nelson. 
 
 Waterton'sWanderings in S.America. 
 
 Anson's Voyage Round the World. 
 
 Lamb's Tales from Shakspeare. 
 
 Autobiographyof Benjamin Franklin. 
 
 Marryat's Children of the New Forest. 
 
 Miss Mitford's Our Village. 
 
 Scott's Talisman. 
 
 The Basket of Flowers. 
 
 Marryat's Masterman Ready. 
 
 Alcott's Little Women. 
 
 Cooper's Deerslayer. 
 
 Parry's Third Voyage. 
 
 Dickens' Old Curiosity Shop, z vols 
 
 Plutarch's Lives of Greek Heroes. 
 
 The Lamplighter. By Miss Cummins. 
 
 Cooper's Pathfinder. 
 
 The Vicar of Wakefield. 
 
 White's Natural History of Selborne. 
 
 Scott's Ivanhoe. 2 vols. 
 
 Michael Scott's Tom Cringle's Log. 
 
 Irving's Conquest of Granada. 2 vols 
 
 Lives of Drake and Cavendish. 
 
 Michael Scott's Cruise of the Midge 
 
 Edgeworth's Moral Tales. 
 
 Passages in the Life of a Galley-Slave 
 
 The Snowstorm. By Mrs. Cjore, 
 
 Life of Dampier. 
 
 Marryat's The Settlers in Canada. 
 
 To be follcntied by a new volutue on thejirst 0/ each month. 
 
 We feel sure that they will form a collection which boys and girls alike, 
 but especially the former, will highly prize; for whilst they contain interest- 
 ing, and at times very exciting reading, the tone throughout is of that 
 vigorous, stirring kind which is always appreciated by the young." — 
 Sheffield Independent. 
 
 Detailed /'rospectus and Press Opinions will be sent post free on Application. 
 
 LONDON: 
 BLACKIE & SON, Limited, 50 OLD BAILEY, E.G.
 
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