Patience Wins Part 4

"Ha, ha!" cried Uncle Bob, "if they are going to give us fried ham like that for breakfast--"

"And such eggs!" cried Uncle Jack.

"And such bread!" said Uncle d.i.c.k, hewing off a great slice.

"And such coffee and milk!" I said, taking up the idea that I was sure was coming, "we won't go back to London."

"Right!" said Uncle d.i.c.k. "Bah! Just as if we were going to be frightened away by a set of old women's tales. They've got police here, and laws."

The matter was discussed until breakfast was over, and by that time my three giants of uncles had decided that they would not stir for an army of discontented workmen, but would do their duty to themselves and their partner in London.

"But look here, boys," said Uncle d.i.c.k; "if we are going to war, we don't want women in the way."

"No," said Uncle Jack.

"So you had better write and tell Alick to keep on the old place till the company must have it, and by that time we shall know what we are about."

This was done directly after breakfast, and as soon as the letter had been despatched we went off to see the works.

"I shall never like this place," I said, as we went down towards the town. "London was smoky enough, but this is terrible."

"Oh, wait a bit!" said Uncle d.i.c.k, and as we strode on with me trying to take long steps to keep up with my companions, I could not help seeing how the people kept staring at them. And though there were plenty of big fine men in the town, I soon saw that my uncles stood out amongst them as being remarkable for their size and frank handsome looks. This was the more plainly to be seen, since the majority of the work-people we pa.s.sed were pale, thin, and degenerate looking little men, with big muscular arms, and a general appearance of everything else having been sacrificed to make those limbs strong.

The farther we went the more unsatisfactory the town looked. We were leaving the great works to the right, and our way lay through streets and streets of dingy-looking houses all alike, and with the open channels in front foul with soapy water and the refuse which the people threw out.

I looked up with disgust painted on my face so strongly that Uncle Bob laughed.

"Here, let's get this fellow a bower somewhere by a beautiful stream,"

he cried, laughing. Then more seriously, "Never mind the dirt, Cob," he cried. "Dirty work brings clean money."

"Oh, I don't mind," I said. "Which way now?"

"Down here," said Uncle d.i.c.k; and he led us down a nasty dirty street, worse than any we had yet pa.s.sed, and so on and on, for about half an hour, till we were once more where wheels whirred, and we could hear the harsh churring noise of blades being held upon rapidly revolving stones.

Now and then, too, I caught sight of water on our right, down through lanes where houses and works were crowded together.

"Do you notice one thing, Cob?" said Uncle d.i.c.k.

"One thing!" I said; "there's so much to notice that I don't know what to look at first."

"I'll tell you what I mean," he said. "You can hear the rush and rumble of machinery, can't you?"

"Yes," I said, "like wheels whizzing and stones rolling, as if giant tinkers were grinding enormous scissors."

"Exactly," he said; "but you very seldom hear the hiss of steam out here."

"No. Have they a different kind of engines?"

"Yes, a very different kind. Your steam-engine goes because the water is made hot: these machines go with the water kept cold."

"Oh, I see! By hydraulic presses."

"No, not by hydraulic presses, Cob; by hydraulic power. Look here."

We were getting quite in the outskirts now, and on rising ground, and, drawing me on one side, he showed me that the works we were by were dependent on water-power alone.

"Why, it's like one of those old flour-mills up the country rivers," I exclaimed, "with their mill-dam, and water-wheel."

"And without the willows and lilies and silver b.u.t.tercups, Cob," said Uncle Jack.

"And the great jack and chub and tench we used to fish out," said Uncle Bob.

"Yes," I said; "I suppose one would catch old saucepans, dead cats, and old shoes in a dirty pool like this."

"Yes," said Uncle d.i.c.k, "and our wheel-bands when the trades'-union people attack us."

"Why should they throw them in here?" I said, as I looked at the great deep-looking piece of water held up by a strong stone-built dam, and fed by a stream at the farther end.

"Because it would be the handiest place. These are our works."

I looked at the stone-built prison-like place in disgust. It was wonderfully strongly-built, and with small windows protected by iron bars, but such a desolate unornamental spot. It stood low down by the broad shallow stream that ran on toward the town in what must once have been the bed of the river; but the steep banks had been utilised by the builders on each side, and everywhere one saw similar-looking places so arranged that their foundation walls caught and held up the water that came down, and was directed into the dam, and trickled out at the lower end after it had turned a great slimy water-wheel. "This is our place, boys; come and have a look at it." He led us down a narrow pa.s.sage half-way to the stream, and then rang at a gate in a stone wall; and while we waited low down there I looked at the high rough stone wall and the two-storied factory with its rows of strong iron-barred windows, and thought of what Mr Tomplin had said the night before, coming to the conclusion that it was a pretty strong fortress in its way. For here was a stout high wall; down along by the stream there was a high blank wall right from the stones over which the water trickled to the double row of little windows; while from the top corner by the water-wheel, which was fixed at the far end of the works, there was the dam of deep water, which acted the part of a moat, running off almost to a point where the stream came in, so that the place was about the shape of the annexed triangle: the works occupying the whole of the base, the rest being the deep stone-walled dam.

"I think we could keep out the enemy if he came," I said to Uncle Bob; and just then a short-haired, palefaced man, with bent shoulders, bare arms, and an ugly squint, opened the gate and scowled at us.

"Is your master in?" said Uncle d.i.c.k.

"No-ah," said the man sourly; "and he wean't be here to-day."

"That's a bad job," said Uncle d.i.c.k. "Well, never mind; we want to go round the works."

"Nay, yow wean't come in here."

He was in the act of banging the gate, but Uncle d.i.c.k placed one of his great brown hands against it and thrust it open, driving the man back, but only for a moment, for he flew at my uncle, caught him by the arm and waist, thrust forward a leg, and tried to throw him out by a clever wrestling trick.

But Uncle d.i.c.k was too quick for him. Wrenching himself on one side he threw his left arm over the fellow's neck, as he bent down, the right arm under his leg, and whirled him up perfectly helpless, but kicking with all his might.

"Come inside and shut that gate," said Uncle d.i.c.k, panting with his exertion. "Now look here, my fine fellow, it would serve you right if I dropped you into that dam to cool you down. But there, get on your legs," he cried contemptuously, "and learn to be civil to strangers when they come."

The scuffle and noise brought about a dozen workmen out of the place, each in wooden clogs, with a rough wet ap.r.o.n about him, and his sleeves rolled up nearly to the shoulder.

They came forward, looking very fierce and as if they were going to attack us, headed by the fellow with the squint, who was no sooner at liberty than he s.n.a.t.c.hed up a rough piece of iron bar and rolled up his right sleeve ready for a fresh attack.

"Give me that stick, Cob," said Uncle d.i.c.k quickly; and I handed him the light Malacca cane I carried.

He had just seized it when the man raised the iron bar, and I felt sick as I saw the blow that was aimed at my uncle's head.

I need not have felt troubled though, for, big as he was, he jumped aside, avoided the bar with the greatest ease, and almost at the same moment there was a whizz and a cut like lightning delivered by Uncle d.i.c.k with my light cane.

It struck the a.s.sailant on the tendons of the leg beneath the knee, and he uttered a yell and went down as if killed.