Part 18 (1/2)

”Nay,” cried another; ”I never had no faith in t'owd mawkin of a thing.

She's only fit to boon the roads.”

”What's the matter?” shouted Manners.

”I don't know,” cried Will, despondently; ”it won't go.”

”Are the pipes screwed on right?” said Manners.

”Yes.”

”Is your end down in the water?”

”Yes; three or four feet.”

”We must have got something screwed on upside down.”

”No,” said Will, firmly; ”it's all right, just as old Boil O put it together when it was done.”

”But it isn't all right,” cried Manners; ”the suckers or something must have been left out.”

”Oh, why didn't we try it? Why didn't we try it when it was done?”

groaned Will. ”I did want to, but Boil O said there was no time for me to be playing my games.”

At that moment Mr Willows ran up.

”Well,” he cried, ”why don't you pump?”

”We did, father, but it won't go.”

”Then don't waste time. Here, Manners!”

”Catch hold,” shouted the artist, thrusting the copper branch into the nearest man hands and running up.

”Yes!” he said.

”Ladders and buckets,” continued Mr Willows.

”Right, and form a double line. I say,” he whispered; ”here's treachery.”

”I fear so; I fear so,” said Willows, in the same tone. ”It's revenge, and the engine has been purposely left out of gear. No,” he cried, as if in agony, his words having given him intense pain; ”I won't believe a man could be so base.”

There was the scuffling rush of feet just then, and the object of his thoughts, wild and weird-looking from his dwarfish aspect, glistening head, and staring eyes, dashed up.

”Here, fools! Idiots! Are you going to let the poor old mill burn down?”

”Hurrah!” shouted Will; ”here's Boil O! Here, old fellow, what is there wrong? I can't get the thing to go.”

”Stand aside!” cried the man, fiercely; and the next moment he was down on his knees, rapidly examining the connections, valve, piston, and rod.