Patience Wins Part 68

"It's quite right," said Uncle Bob. "We've been remiss. When sentries are set the superior officers always make a point of going their rounds to see if they are all right. Go, d.i.c.k, and we'll come with you."

Uncle d.i.c.k protested, but we had our own way, and about a quarter to one on a bitter March night we let ourselves out and walked down to the works.

For my part I would far rather have gone to bed, but after a few minutes the excitement of the proceeding began to a.s.sert itself, and I was bright and wakeful enough.

We walked quickly and briskly on till we came to the lane by the factory wall; but instead of turning down we all walked on along the edge of the dam, which gleamed coldly beneath the frosty stars. It was very full, for there had been a good deal of rain; and though the air was frosty there was a suggestion of change and more rain before long.

When we reached the top of the dam we turned and looked back.

Everything was as quiet as could be, and here and there the glow from the lowered furnace-fires made a faint halo about the dark building, so quiet and still after the hurry and buzz of the day.

As we went back along the dam the wavelets lapped the stone edge, and down below on the other side, as well as by the waste sluice, we could hear the water rus.h.i.+ng along towards the lower part of the town, and onward to the big river that would finally carry it to the sea.

We were very silent, for every one was watching the works, till, as Uncle d.i.c.k and I reached the lane, we stopped short, for I caught his arm.

I had certainly heard whispering.

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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k; "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 d.i.c.k. "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 d.i.c.k. "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 ba.s.s 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 d.i.c.k, "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 d.i.c.k, "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 cla.s.s. 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 d.i.c.k 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.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

FIRE AND WATER.

One dark night at the end of March we went down to the works all four, meaning to watch two and two through the dark hours. The wind blew hard and the rain fell, and as we reached the lane we could hear the water lapping and beating against the sluice and the stones that formed the head of the dam, while the waste rushed away with a hollow roar.

"Pity to lose so much good power," said Uncle Jack.