Part 34 (2/2)
”Never mind,” replied Uncle d.i.c.k. ”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.
”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 straightforward 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 d.i.c.k; ”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 wis.h.i.+ng,” said Uncle Bob, ”and they won't join. Now, how about telling the men?”
”Let's call and see Dunning and tell him to start the fires,” said Uncle d.i.c.k; 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 will be let alone now.”
”To which,” said Uncle Bob as we walked on, ”I most devoutly say, Amen.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
I HAVE AN IDEA.
The 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 painfully 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, and I could see his tongue quivering as if ready to begin, but he shut it with a snap and shook his head.
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