There were half a dozen persons down near the gate, but whoever they
were they came towards us, said "good-night!" roughly, turned the
corner, and went away.
It looked suspicious for half a dozen men to be down there in the middle
of the night, but their manner was inoffensive and civil, and we could
see nothing wrong.
Uncle Dick slipped his key into the lock, and as he opened the little
door in the gate there was a low growl and the rush of feet.
"Piter's on the watch," I said quietly, and the growl turned to a whine
of welcome.
"Be on the look-out," said Uncle Dick; "we must speak or Searby may
attack us."
"Right," said Uncle Jack; "but he had better not."
The dog did not bark, but trotted on before us, and we could just see
him as we took a look round the yard before going into the buildings.
Everything was quite right as far as we could tell. Nothing unusual to
be seen anywhere, and we went at last to the main entrance.
"Nothing could be better," said Uncle Dick. "Only there is no watchman.
I say, was I right in coming?"
"Right enough," replied Uncle Jack; "but look out now for squalls. Men
in the dark have a suspicious look."
We entered, peered in at the great grinding-shop, and then began to
ascend the stairs to the upper works.
"All right!" said Uncle Dick. "I wish we had a light. Can you hear
him?"
He had stopped short on the landing, and we could hear a low, muttering
noise, like a bass saw cutting hard leather.
_Score! Score! Score_! Slowly and regularly; the heavy breathing of a
deep sleeper.
"I'm glad we've got a good watcher," said Uncle Jack drily. "Here,
Piter, dog, fetch him out. Wake him then."
The dog understood him, for he burst into a furious fit of barking and
charged up into the big workshop, and then there was a worrying noise as
if he were dragging at the watchman's jacket.
"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 Dick, "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 Dick, "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 class. 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 Dick 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.