Part 45 (1/2)

I felt a curious flinching as he looked so hard at me, for Uncle Jack was always the most stern and uncompromising of my uncles. Faults that Uncle d.i.c.k would shake his head at, and Uncle Bob say, ”I say, 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 horrible life, and they deserve any punishment; but there is the law of the land to punish evildoers, 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 injury, 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.”

”Working together,” I said.

”Of course. You are only a boy, but you are joined 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 springing a mine unknown to the others, what a position the other three are in!”

”Yes,” I said again. ”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 have been saved from a terrible danger; but look here, don't do anything of the kind again.”

”Shall you go to the police about this?” I said.

”No, and I'm sure the others will agree with me. We must be our own police, Cob, and take care of ourselves; but I'm afraid we have rough times coming.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

PANNELL SAYS NOTHING.

”Better and better!” cried Uncle d.i.c.k, waving a letter over his head one morning after the post had come in. ”All we have to do is to work 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 d.i.c.k, ”_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?”