STOPPING A BURGLARY.
It was Saturday afternoon and the great machine shops at Lisle & Co.'s
were closing for the weekly half holiday. There was to be an important
football match at the Marshes outside the town, and the boys and men
had talked of little else all the week.
"Art coming, Dick, to see the match?" asked one of the lads, who had
seemed inclined to be friendly during the last week or two. "Yon's a
grand team ours are going to play."
"To the match? Not he," sneered Hal Smith, who stood near. "He
couldn't spare a tanner for gate money, and he's going to stop at home
and say his prayers, little dear, because football's wicked, and he's
got to get ready for the Sabbath day."
"Nonsense! There's no harm in football. Own up now, Dick, wouldn't
you like to see the match?"
"Maybe I should, especially if I could be in it," said Dick, good
humouredly.
"Hear him?" shouted Hal in derision, "he wants to be captain of our
team, no doubt, the little upstart! Come on, lads, we don't want his
company. See, all the others are going."
Soon the tramp of many feet died away, and the yards were left to
Saturday's quiet and loneliness.
The throb of the machinery and all the stir and clatter of toil had
ceased till midnight on Sunday, when the first shift of workers would
begin again.
But Dick felt entirely happy as he took a huge "doorstep" of bread and
cheese and a rosy apple from his bag, and began to munch it in the
shadow of a great locomotive that stood on the lines, not far from the
manager's office.
A few days before this engine had been brought in smoking hot for
repairs, and on Monday the work would be finished.
Dick's quick eyes had seen new features in the make of this visitor,
and he resolved to use part of his holiday in investigations. Mrs.
Garth would be busy with her cleaning and would not need him, and Pat,
who was beginning to know Saturday afternoon, must wait for his weekly
outing.
He had on his dirty slop that was already very grimy from the week's
wear and toil, and as soon as he had finished his dinner he began a
minute inspection of the beautifully finished monster.
Every little cog and wheel was worth looking at, and the smallest nut
and screw more interesting to him than all the football in Ironboro'.
Mr. Dainton had given him leave to stay, and Joe, the watchman, would
let him out when he was ready.
He had watched the fitters at their work and thought wistfully of the
years that must go by before he would be as clever as they. But every
hour of learning would help and he would find out some things now.
So he got down and crawled under the boiler and inspected everything
there, trying to understand the massive architecture of the iron steed.
Perhaps the faint warmth lulled him unconsciously, but in a place where
most boys would have felt very uncomfortable, he presently went fast
asleep. How long he had been there could not be told, but suddenly a
sound of voices close by roused him completely.
"I tell you, man, there's no danger at all! That bottle of whisky will
make old Joe sleep till midnight, and the little gate's ajar, and
everybody off to the match. Just help me up and I'll spring back the
fastening and get in through the side window. I've got keys, and with
luck I can get the tracings and have them all copied out before dark.
And there's a sovereign for your trouble as soon as I've put them back
again to-night. Monks' will see _me_ right if I can manage it, and
their draughtsman's waiting. I shan't touch anything else, so nobody
'll be the wiser."
[Illustration: "'I TELL YOU THERE'S NO DANGER AT ALL!'"]
Dick felt the perspiration on his brow as he recognised Whatman's
voice. Then peering out cautiously he saw him walk towards the
manager's office with a tall, well-dressed stranger.
He was not _quite_ sure what tracings might be, but he knew the firm
had plans for new machinery in hand, from which great things were to be
expected, for he had heard the fitters talking about it.
And these men were going to steal them. All sorts of ideas as to how
he could stop them flitted through his eager brain while he noiselessly
slipped off his shoes, and crawled out, inch by inch. If only the
window fastenings would prove refractory and hinder them till he could
steal behind the engine sheds and reach the big gates!
With cat-like speed and lightness he crept round the corner, and as
soon as he gained shelter, ran at full speed to the small gate, that
was half an inch ajar.
Inside the watchman's box old Joe slept heavily, from the effects of
the drugged whisky. Dick dashed out almost into the arms of Policeman
X., who looked suspiciously at the breathless lad, in his stockinged
feet. "Oh, please, come quick!" he cried, laying hold of the strong
hand as no criminal would have done. "They're burglaring the office
and stealing tracings. Come now at once!"
"How many?" asked, the policeman with alacrity, as he beckoned to a man
in plain clothes opposite.
"Two."
"All right, lead on, and if you're telling a true yarn we'll nab them.
If not--well, mind yourself."
But there was unclouded truth in Dick's bright eyes, and the man in
blue followed him confidently, his mate bringing up the rear.
Dick led them cautiously till they came close to the locomotive.
Then somebody trod on a piece of loose iron, and there was a slight
clinking noise. In affright Whatman darted round the office, to be
instantly taken possession of by the second man, while policeman X. ran
forward and caught the stranger, who was just emerging from the window
with a slim roll of papers in his hand.
"Well caught!" said the man in plain clothes, as he slipped the
handcuffs on.
"You young spoil-sport, so this is _your_ doings!" said Whatman
vindictively. "I'll have my revenge on you, see if I don't."
The stranger, who looked very pale and cowed, tried to offer a bribe,
but the policeman stopped him at once and warned them that anything
they said would be used against them at their trial.
Then when Dick had fetched his discarded shoes, and told what he had
overheard, the little procession moved out into the street.
"We must wake up that dolt of a watchman and get the place made fast
once more."
And after giving his name and address, Dick was glad to go home away
from the sight of Whatman's rage.
"I am sorry I had to do it," he told Mrs. Garth over the fire that
evening, "but it wouldn't have been right to let them steal, would it?"
"In course not, my boy, you only did your duty; though maybe Whatman
would have said you were up to no good if he had found you there alone.
It was lucky for you they didn't find you out when you went to give the
alarm."
The news of the attempted burglary was soon known among the workmen,
and proved a more exciting topic than the result of the football match.
"That's a smart lad," said the manager to Dainton that evening, "and if
the firm doesn't do something for him, I will."
"You're right, sir," said Dainton emphatically. "He's smart and plucky
too. Whatman's neither more nor less than a brute when he's roused,
and this affair proves that he's none too honest. You know he was more
than suspected when the brass filings were missed, that time."
"It'll be a fine exposure for Monks, too, if this fellow proves he was
only a cat's-paw for them."
"Maybe you could move Dick into my shop, sir? I want to lend the boy a
hand, though it strikes me he'll get on whether or no. He's so keen on
learning, and would stop up half the night to pore over any old book of
mechanics he can get hold of. And the way he has taken hold of
drawing, at the night school, in the few weeks he's been there is
something wonderful. I only wish my boy had the same gift."
"His uncle was a clever workman," said the manager thoughtfully.
"Foolish fellow to take gold fever and go off into the wilds after it
when he was doing so well with good British ironwork! I'll speak to
Mr. Alfred about Dick, and he'll certainly have some promotion."
The manager did speak, and to good purpose, for Dick was raised to the
rank of an apprentice and his indentures were made out and signed by
the firm. He did not leave all disagreeable work behind, but he was
under Mr. Dainton's oversight now, and Whatman's friends had little
chance to torment him. When the Assizes came he had to give evidence
against the would-be burglars, and as a result they were both sentenced
to hard labour.
Dick would have gladly evaded this unpleasant duty, but he had no
choice in the matter.
It was a great trouble to him, for a long while afterwards, and again
and again he prayed that Whatman might have a new heart and right
spirit and come out to lead a better life.