Part 68 (2/2)

”Get out! Be off! Do you hear!”

”Hi, Searby!” roared Uncle Jack.

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. ”I 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 d.i.c.k, ”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.

”Yes,” 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 d.i.c.k, ”I don't want to be unmerciful, 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 different cla.s.s. It was as follows:

”_Mesters_,--_There's somewhat up. We don't kno wat, but 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 now an' then o' nights but yowd beter wetch im place yoursens_.--_Some frends_.”

”That's genuine,” said Uncle d.i.c.k 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.”

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 disgust, but we could not afford to heed him, and night after night we lost our rest for nothing.

”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 TWENTY SIX.

FIRE AND WATER.

One dark night at the end of March we went down to the works all four, meaning to watch two and two through the dark 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.

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