Next morning I went down to the works, feeling as if I had grown in one
night a year older, and after giving Piter the bones I always took him
down, and receiving the ram-like butt he always favoured me with to show
his gratitude, I was going round the place, when I heard a familiar
clinking and saw a glow out of the little smithy that had for some time
been cold.
I ran in, and there, looking rather pale and with a bit or two of
sticking-plaster about his temples, was Pannell hammering away as if he
were trying to make up for lost time.
"Why, Pannell, old man," I cried, running in with outstretched hand,
"back again at work! I am glad to see you."
He looked up at me with a scowl, and wiped his brow with the arm that
was terminated by a fist and hammer--a way, I have observed, much
affected by smiths.
His was not a pleasant face, and it was made more repulsive by the scars
and sticking-plaster. As our eyes met it almost seemed as if he were
going to strike me with his hammer; but he threw it down, gave his great
hand a rub back and front upon his apron, probably to make it a little
blacker, and then gripped mine as badly as Uncle Jack had on the
previous night. In fact, you see, I suffered for people liking me.
"Are you glad, mun?" he said at last hoarsely; "are you glad? Well
that's cheering anyhow, and thank ye."
He nodded and went on with his work again while I went to mine about the
books, but with a suspicious feeling of impending trouble on my mind, as
I passed two of the men who saw me come out of the smithy, and who must
have seen me shaking hands with Pannell.
I don't know why they should have minded, for I should have done the
same with either of them had we been on as friendly terms.
As I entered my little office my eyes lit on the common fishing-rod I
had used, and that set me thinking about the conversation I had heard as
I stood on the ledge.
I recalled what had been said overnight in a long discussion with my
uncles, and the advice they had given.
"Don't show suspicion," Uncle Dick had said, "but meet every man with a
frank fearless look in the eye, as if you asked no favour of him, were
not afraid of him, and as if you wanted to meet him in a straightforward
way."
I thought a good deal about it all, and how my uncles said they meant to
be just and kind and stern at the same time; and it certainly did seem
as if this was the most likely way to win the men's respect.
"For now that we have concluded to keep you with us, Cob, I must warn
that we mean business, and that we have made up our minds that we shall
win."
That morning went off quietly enough, and though we all kept a quiet
searching look-out, there was nothing to excite suspicion. Then evening
came, and the watching, in which again that night I had no share, but it
was an understood thing that I was to be at the works at the same time
as the men next day.
It was a lovely autumn morning with the wind from the country side, and
as I hurried up and off to the works there was a feeling in the air that
seemed to tempt me away to the hills and vales, and made me long for a
change.
"I'll see if one of them won't go for a day," I said to myself; and
hopeful of getting the holiday, and perhaps a run up to the great dam, I
reached the works before the men.
"Well done, industrious!" cried Uncle Bob, who opened the gate to me.
"You are first."
"That's right," I said. "No, it isn't. Where's Uncle Dick? Why, you
look pale."
"Uncle Dick isn't awake," he said quickly. "Fact is, Cob, I've had a
scare. As you say, I found that they'd been at Piter again. The poor
dog has been drugged, and that must mean something wrong."
Sure enough, poor Piter lay fast asleep and breathing heavily; but after
our last experience we did not feel so despondent about bringing him to
again, so, leaving him in his kennel where he had crept, we roused Uncle
Dick and told him.
"We can't look round now," he said. "The men are coming in to their
work, but we shall soon hear if there is anything wrong. The bands
again, I expect."
Just then we heard the noise made by the drawing of the sluice, the
wheel went plashing round, the shaft rumbled, connections were being
made, and in a very few minutes the first grindstone was sending forth
its loud churring noise.
Then there was more and more, and at last the works were in full swing.
"There's nothing wrong, then, with the bands," said Uncle Dick; and then
we waited, wondering what trick had been played, till about an hour had
passed, during which the same remedies as were tried before were put
into force with poor old Piter, and he recovered sufficiently to wag his
tail.
Just about that time Uncle Jack arrived, and was put in possession of
our fresh trouble.
"And you can find nothing wrong?" he said.
"Nothing."
"Have you looked under the desks, and in the cupboards?"
"We've quietly searched everywhere," replied Uncle Bob earnestly.
"Then we must go on as usual," said Uncle Jack. "There, you two go
home: Cob and I will chance the risks."
"It may have been an attempt to get rid of the dog," I said, "and
nothing more."
"That's what I've been thinking," said Uncle Jack; and soon after we
were left alone.
Towards mid-day I went down to have a chat with Pannell, and to ask him
how he had got on during his long illness.
"Tidy," he said sourly. "There was the club helped me, but the mesters
did most."
"What! My uncles?"
"Ay, didn't you know?" he cried, busying himself about lighting a
smaller forge at the back of the first.