Part 4 (2/2)

”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 b.u.t.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 saucepans, dead cats, and old shoes in a dirty pool like this.”

”Yes,” said Uncle d.i.c.k, ”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 disgust. It was wonderfully strongly-built, and with small windows protected by iron bars, but such a desolate unornamental spot. It stood low down by the broad shallow stream that ran on toward the town in what must once have been the bed of the river; but the steep banks had been utilised by the builders on each side, and everywhere one saw similar-looking places so arranged that their foundation walls caught 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 pa.s.sage 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-storied factory with its rows of strong iron-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 corner by the water-wheel, which was 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 occupying 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, palefaced man, with bent shoulders, bare arms, and an ugly squint, opened the gate and scowled at us.

”Is your master in?” said Uncle d.i.c.k.

”No-ah,” said the man sourly; ”and he wean't be here to-day.”

”That's a bad job,” said Uncle d.i.c.k. ”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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k 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 might.

”Come inside and shut that gate,” said Uncle d.i.c.k, 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 workmen out of the place, each in wooden clogs, with a rough wet ap.r.o.n 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 s.n.a.t.c.hed up a rough piece of iron bar and rolled up his right sleeve ready for a fresh attack.

”Give me that stick, Cob,” said Uncle d.i.c.k quickly; and I handed him the light Malacca cane I carried.

He had just seized it when the man raised the iron 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 d.i.c.k with my light cane.

It struck the a.s.sailant on the tendons of the leg beneath the knee, and he uttered a yell and went down as if killed.

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