Part 22 (1/2)

”No, I don't think I should, if it were my case. I should commence an action for damages if I could find an enemy who had any money, but it is of no use fighting 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 I broke out with:

”Why, he seemed to think nothing of it.”

”Custom of the country,” said Uncle Bob, laughing. ”Come, d.i.c.k, it's our turn now.”

”Right!” said Uncle d.i.c.k; 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 d.i.c.k. ”I'm not going to be beaten. 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 d.i.c.k 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 have the disgrace on their side.”

We started off 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 that I did not like, and more than once I drew Uncle d.i.c.k'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 fit 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 upstairs and down showed nothing suspicious; and after a few words regarding keeping a sharp 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?