The next day, after recounting plenty of my adventures to my mother,
but, I am afraid, dressing some of them up so that they should not alarm
her, a letter reached me from Uncle Bob.
It was very short. He hoped I had reached town safely, and found all
well. The night had passed quite quietly at the works, and he ended by
saying:
"I took up the trap. All right!"
That was a great relief to me, and made my stay in town quite pleasant.
I went down to the old works with my father, and it made me smile to see
how quiet and orderly everything was, and how different to the new line
of business we had taken up. The men here never thought of committing
outrages or interfering with those who employed them, and I could not
help thinking what a contrast there was between them and the Arrowfield
rough independence of mien.
My father questioned me a great deal about matters upon which my uncles
had dwelt lightly, but I found that he thoroughly appreciated our
position there and its risks.
"Not for another six months, Cob," he said in answer to an inquiry as to
when he was coming down.
"You four must pacify the country first," he added laughing, "and have
the business in good going order."
My visit was very pleasant, and I could not help feeling proud of the
treatment I received at home; but all the same I was glad to start again
for Arrowfield and join my uncles in their battle for success.
For there was something very exciting in these struggles with the men,
and now I was away all this seemed to be plainer, and the attraction
grew so that there was a disposition on my part to make those at home
quite at their ease as to the life I was leading down at Arrowfield.
At last the day came for me to start on my return journey, when once
more I had a packet to bear.
"I need not tell you that it is of great value, Cob," said my father.
"Button it up in your pocket, and then forget all about it. That is the
safest way. It takes off all the consciousness."
"I don't suppose I shall meet my friend this time," I said.
My father shuddered slightly.
"It is not likely," he said; "but I should strongly advise you to change
carriages if you find yourself being left alone with a stranger."
Word had been sent down as to the train I should travel by, and in due
time I found myself on the Arrowfield platform and back at our new home,
where Mrs Stephenson and Tattsey were ready with the most friendly of
smiles.
"Everything has been going on splendidly," was the report given to me.
Piter had been carefully attended to, and the works watched as well as
if I had been at Arrowfield.
I felt annoyed, and, I suppose, showed it, for it seemed as if my uncles
were bantering me, but the annoyance passed off directly under the
influence of the warmth displayed by all three.
"I'm beginning to be hopeful now that work will go on steadily, that
this watching can be given up, and that we can take to a few country
excursions, some fishing, and the like."
That was Uncle Dick's expressed opinion; and I was glad enough to hear
it, for though I did not mind the work I liked some play.
Uncle Jack was just as hopeful; but Uncle Bob evidently was not, for he
said very little.
This time I had travelled by a day train, and I was quite ready to take
my turn at the watching that night. Uncle Jack, whose turn it was,
opposed my going, as I had been travelling so far; but I insisted,
saying that I had had my regular night's rest ever since I had left
them, and was consequently quite fresh.
I wanted to ask Uncle Bob where he had hidden the trap, but I had no
opportunity, and as neither Uncle Dick nor Uncle Jack made any allusion
to it I did not start the subject.
Perhaps Uncle Bob had not told them, meaning to have a few words with me
first.
It almost seemed like coming home to enter the works again, where Piter
was most demonstrative in his affection, and carried it to such an
extent that I could hardly get away.
I had a look round the gloomy old place at once, and felt quite a thrill
of pride in the faintly glowing furnaces and machinery as I thought of
the endless things the place was destined to produce.
"Look here, Cob," said Uncle Jack, "I shall lie down for three hours,
mind; and at the end of that time you are to wake me. It is only nine
o'clock now, and you can get over that time with a book. There will be
no need to walk round the place."
"Would Piter warn us, do you think?" I said.
"Oh, yes! It is getting quite a form our being here. The men are
toning down."
He threw himself on the bed, and I took up a book and read for an hour,
after which I had a walk through the gloomy workshops, and in and out of
the furnace-houses and smithies, where all was quiet as could be.
After this I felt disposed to go and open the big door and look down
into the wheel-pit. I don't know why, only that the place attracted me.
I did not, however, but walked back to the doorway to look at the glow
which overhung the town, with the heavy canopy of ruddy smoke, while
away behind me the stars were shining brightly, and all was clear.
I patted Piter, who came to the full length of his chain, and then I had
a look about with the lantern to see if I could find where Uncle Bob had
put the trap.
I felt that it must be under lock and key somewhere, but the cupboards
had nothing to show, and, try how I would, I could think of no likely
place for it to be hidden in. So I gave up the task of trying to find
it, and walked back to the door, where I found Piter lying down hard at
work trying to push his collar over his head.
The patient, persevering way in which he tried, getting both his
fore-paws against it, was most amusing, the more so that there was not
the slightest possibility of success attending his efforts, for his
neck, which the collar fitted pretty closely, was small, and his bullet
head enormous by comparison.
"Come," I said, as I bent over him; "shall I undo it for you?"
He looked up at me as I put the dark lantern down, and whined softly.
Then he began working at the collar again.
"Look here," I said, as I sat on the bottom step. "Shall I undo it?"
Dogs must have a good deal of reason, for Piter leaped up and laid his
head in my lap directly, holding it perfectly still while I unbuckled
the strap collar, when he gave a sniff or two at my hands, licked them,
and bounded off to have a regular good run all over the place before he
came back and settled down close to me in the little office where I was
trying to read.
Twelve o'clock at last, and I awoke Uncle Jack, who rose at once, fresh
and clear as if he were amply rested, and soon after I was fast asleep,
dreaming away and fancying I could hear the rattle and the throb of the
train. Then I was talking to that man again, and then swinging out on
the carriage-door with the wind rushing by, and the bluff man leaning
out over me, and Piter on the carriage with him, barking at my
aggressor, who was shrieking for mercy.
Then I was awake, to see that it was Uncle Jack who was leaning over me,
and the window was open, admitting a stream of cold air and a curious
yelling noise, mingled with the barking of a dog.
"What is the matter?" I cried.
"That's what I want to know," said Uncle Jack. "I went with a candle,
but the wind puffed it out. Where did you put the lantern?"
"Lantern--lantern!" I said in a confused way, "did I have it?"
"Yes; you must have had it. Can't you think? Gracious, what a noise!
Piter must have got someone by the throat."
"Oh, I know!" I cried as I grew more fully awake. "On the shelf in the
entry."
We ran down together, and a faint glow showed its whereabouts, still
alight, but with the dark shade turned over the bull's-eye.
"Where does the noise come from?" I said, feeling startled at the
alarming nature of the cries, freshly awakened as I was from sleep.
"I can hardly tell," he said, seizing the lantern and taking a sharp
hold, of his stick. "Bring a stick with you, my boy, for there may be
enemies in the way."
"Why, uncle," I cried, "some poor creature has fallen from the side path
into the dam."
"Some wretched drunken workman then," he said, as we hurried in the
direction, and there seemed to be no doubt about it now, for there was
the splashing of water, and the cry of "Help!" while Piter barked more
furiously than ever.
We ran down to the edge of the dam, the light of the bull's-eye flashing
and dancing over the ground, so that we were able to avoid the different
objects lying about; and directly after the light played on the water,
and then threw into full view the figure of the bull-dog as he stood on
the stone edge of the dam barking furiously at a man's head that was
just above the surface of the water.
"Help! Help!" he cried as we drew near, and then I uttered a prolonged
"Oh!" and stood still.
"Quiet, Piter! Down, dog! Can't you see it is a friend!"
But the dog seemed to deny it, and barked more furiously than ever.
"Quiet, sir! Here, Cob, lay hold of the lantern. Will you be quiet,
dog! Lay hold of him, Cob, and hold him."
I obeyed in a half stupid way, holding the lantern with one hand, as I
went on my knees, putting my arm round Piter's neck to hold him back;
and in that way I struggled back from the edge, watching my uncle as I
made the light fall upon the head staring wildly at us, a horrible white
object just above the black water of the dam.
"Help! Help!" it cried. "Save me! Oh!"
"Catch hold of the stick. That's right; now your hand. Well done!
What's holding you down? Have you got your foot entangled? That's
better: how did you fall in?"
As my uncle rapidly asked these questions he got hold of the man, and
dragged him on to the stone edge of the dam, when there was a horrible
clanking noise, the rattle of a chain, the man uttered a hideous yell,
and as Piter set up a tremendous barking again I turned off the light.
"Here, don't do that," cried my uncle.
I hardly know what induced me to turn off the light, unless it was a
shamefaced feeling on being, as I thought, found out. And yet it did
not seem that I was the guilty party. Uncle Bob had said he had taken
up the trap, and it was all right. He must have altered his mind and
set it again.
"That's better," said my uncle as I turned on the light once more; and
then Piter made such a struggle that I could not hold him. There was a
bit of a scuffle, and he was free to rush at the man, upon whom he fixed
himself as he lay there howling and dripping with water.
The man yelled again horribly, sprang up with Piter holding on to him;
there was the same horrible clanking noise on the stones, and down he
fell once more groaning.
"Help! Murder! Take away the dorg. Oh, help!" he cried.
"Good gracious! What is the matter?" cried Uncle Jack, telling me what
I knew. "The man's leg's in a trap."
He sprang up again, for by main force Uncle Jack had dragged Piter away
with his mouth full of trouser leg; but there were only two clanks and a
sprawl, for the poor wretch fell headlong again on the stones, praying
for mercy.
"Why, his leg's in a great trap, and it's held by a chain," cried Uncle
Jack. "Here, how came you in this condition?"
"Eh mester, aw doan know. Deed aw doan know," the fellow groaned.
"Hey, but it's biting my leg off, and I'll be a lame man to the end o'
my days."
"Why, it's Gentles!" cried Uncle Jack, taking the lantern from me, for I
had enough to do to hold the dog.
"Tek off the thing; tek off the thing," groaned the man. "It's
a-cootin' my leg i' two, I tell'ee."
"Hold your noise, and don't howl like that," cried Uncle Jack angrily,
for he seemed to understand now that the man must have climbed over into
the yard and been caught, though he was all the more surprised, for
quiet smooth-faced Gentles was the last man anyone would have suspected.
"But I tell'ee its tekkin off my leg," groaned the man, and he made
another trial to escape, but was checked by the peg driven tightly into
the ground between the stones, and he fell again, hurting himself
horribly.
"I shall be a dead man--murdered in a minute," he groaned. "Help! Oh,
my poor missus and the bairns! Tek off that thing, and keep away yon
dorg."
"Look here," said Uncle Jack, making the light play on the poor wretch's
miserable face. "How came you here?"
"Your dorg flew at me, mester, and drove me in t'watter."
"Yes, exactly; but how came you in the yard?"
"I d'know, mester, I d'know."
"I suppose not," said Uncle Jack.
"Tek off that thing, mester; tek off that thing. It's most cootin off
my leg."
I was ready to add my supplications, for I knew the poor wretch must be
in terrible agony; but I felt as if I could not speak.
"I'll take it off by and by, when I know how you came here."
"I tell'ee it's 'gen the law to set they montraps," cried the fellow in
a sudden burst of anger, "and I'll have the law o' thee."
"I would," said Uncle Jack, still making the light play over the
dripping figure, and then examining the trap, and tracing the chain to
the peg. "Hullo!" he cried, "what's this?"
He was holding the lantern close to a dark object upon the ground quite
close, and Gentles uttered a fresh yell, bounded up, made a clanking
noise, and fell again groaning.
"Doan't! Doan't! Thou'lt blow us all to bits."
"Oh, it's powder, then, is it?" cried Uncle Jack.
"Hey, I d'know, mester, I d'know."
"Didn't bring it with you, I suppose?" said Uncle Jack.
"Nay, mester, I didn't bring it wi' me."
"Then how do you know it's powder?"
"Hey, I d'know it's powder," groaned the miserable wretch. "It only
looks like it. Tek off this trap thing. Tek away the light. Hey, bud
I'm being killed."
"Let me see," said Uncle Jack with cool deliberation. "You climbed over
the wall with that can of powder and the fuse."
"Nay, nay, mester, not me."
"And fell into a trap."
"Yes, mester. Tek it off."
"Where did you mean to put that can of powder?"
"Nay, mester, I--"
"Tell me directly," cried Uncle Jack, giving the chain a drag and making
Gentles yell out; "tell me directly, or I'll pitch you into the dam."
Uncle Jack's manner was so fierce that the man moaned out feebly:
"If I tell'ee wilt tek off the trap?"
"Perhaps I will. Speak out. Where did you mean to put the powder can?"
"Under big watter-wheel, mester."
"And fire the fuse?"
"Yes, mester."
"How long would it have burned?"
"Twenty minutes, mester."
"Same length as the one that was run in the furnace-house?"
"Yes, mester."
"You cowardly scoundrel! You were in that too, then," cried Uncle Jack,
going down on one knee and seizing the man by the throat and shaking him
till he realised how horribly he was punishing him, when he loosed his
hold.
"Don't kill me, mester. Oh, my wife and bairns!"
"A man with a wife and children, and ready to do such a dastardly act as
that! Here, you shall tell me this, who set you on?"
The man set his teeth fast.
"Who set you on, I say?"
"Nay, mester, I canna tell," groaned Gentles.
"But you shall tell," roared Uncle Jack. "You shall stay here till you
do."
"I can't tell; I weant tell," groaned the man.
"We'll see about that," cried Uncle Jack. "Pah! What a brute I am!
Hold the light, Cob. Piter! You touch him if you dare. Let's see if
we can't get this trap open."
He took hold of it gently, and tried to place it flat upon the stones,
but the poor trapped wretch groaned dismally till he was placed in a
sitting posture with his knee bent, when Piter, having been coerced into
a neutral state, Uncle Jack pressed with all his might upon the spring
while I worked the ring upon it half an inch at a time till the jaws
yawned right open and Gentles' leg was at liberty.
He groaned and was evidently in great pain; but as soon as it was off,
his face was convulsed with passion, and he shook his fists at Uncle
Jack.
"I'll hev the law of ye for this here. I'll hev the law of ye."
"Do," said Uncle Jack, picking up the can of powder; "and I shall bring
this in against you. Let me see. You confessed in the presence of this
witness that you came over the wall with this can of powder to blow up
our water-wheel so as to stop our works. Mr Gentles, I think we shall
get the better of you this time."
The man raised himself to his feet, and stood with great difficulty,
moaning with pain.
"Now," said Uncle Jack, "will you go back over the wall or out by the
gate."
"I'll pay thee for this. I'll pay thee for this," hissed the man.
Uncle Jack took him again by the throat.
"Look here," he said fiercely. "Have a care what you are doing, my fine
fellow. You have had a narrow escape to-night. If we had not been
carefully watching you would by now have been hanging by that chain--
drowned. Mind you and your cowardly sneaking scoundrels of companions
do not meet with some such fate next time they come to molest us. Now
go. You can't walk? There's a stick for you. I ought to break your
thick skull with it, but I'm going to be weak enough to give it to you
to walk home. Go home and tell your wife and children that you are one
of the most treacherous, canting, hypocritical scoundrels in Arrowfield,
and that you have only got your deserts if you are lamed for life."
He gave Gentles his stick and walked with him to the gate, which he
unlocked and held open for him to pass out groaning and suffering
horribly.
"Good-night, honest faithful workman!" he said; "friendly man who only
wanted to be left alone. Do you want your can of powder? No: I'll keep
it as a memento of your visit, and for fear you might have an accident
at home."
The man groaned again as he passed out and staggered.
"Poor wretch!" said Uncle Jack, so that I alone heard him. "Ignorance
and brutality. Here," he said aloud, "take my arm. I'll help you on to
your house. One good turn deserves another."
Uncle Jack went to him and took his stick in his hand, when, fancying I
heard something, I turned on the light just in time to show Uncle Jack
his danger, for half a dozen men armed with sticks came out of the
shadow of the wall and rushed at him.
It was fortunate for him that he had taken back the stout oak
walking-stick that he made his companion on watching nights, or he would
have been beaten down.
As it was he received several heavy blows, but he parried others, and
laid about him so earnestly that two men went down, and another fell
over Gentles.
By that time my uncle had retreated to the gate, darted through, and
banged and locked it in his enemies' face.
"Rather cowardly to retreat, Cob," he panted; "but six to one are long
odds. Where's the powder can?"
"I have it, uncle," I said.
"Ah, well, suppose you give it to me, or else the light! The two don't
go well together. They always quarrel, and it ends in what Mr
O'Gallagher in _Perceval Keene_ called a blow up."
I gave him the can, and then listened to the muttering of voices
outside, half expecting that an attempt might be made to scale the wall.
"No," said Uncle Jack; "they will not do that. They don't make open
attacks."
"Did you see who the others were?"
"No, it was too dark. There, let's get inside. But about that trap. I
won't leave it there."
I walked with him in silence, and lighted him while he dragged the iron
peg out of the ground, and carried all back to the office, where he
examined the trap, turning it over and over, and then throwing it
heavily on the floor.
He looked hard at me then, and I suppose my face told tales.
"I thought so," he said; "that was your game, Master Cob."
"Yes," I said; "but I thought it was taken up. I told Uncle Bob to take
it up when I went to London."
"He thought you meant the trap of the drain," cried Uncle Jack, roaring
with laughter. "He had the bricklayer to it, and said there was a bad
smell, and it was well cleaned out."
"Oh!" I exclaimed; "and I made sure that it was all right again."
"How came you to set the trap there?"
"I had seen marks on the wall," I said, "where someone came over, but I
never thought it could be Gentles."
"No, my lad, one don't know whom to trust here; but how came you to
think of that?"
"It was the rat-trap set me thinking of it, and when I made up my mind
to do it I never thought it would be so serious as it was. Are you very
angry with me?"
Uncle Jack looked at me with his forehead all in wrinkles, and sat down
on a high stool and tapped the desk.
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 Dick 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."