"Gone back to his books and learning, sir, I reckon," replied Ruth. "He don't want us."
"Ah, you scared him, Mrs. Caspar," chaffed the Colonel.
"Scared him back to his revolution," commented Mrs. Lewknor.
Ruth laughed that deep silvery bell-like laughter of hers that seemed to make the night vibrate.
"He'd take some scaring, I reckon, that chap would," she said.
CHAPTER XI
THE RUSSET-COATED CAPTAIN
Joe Burt had been born at Rochdale of a mother whose favourite saying was:
"With a rocking-chair and a piece o celery a Lancasheer lass is aw reet."
At eight, she had entered the mill, doffing. Joe had entered the same mill at about the same age, doffing too. He worked bare-footed in the ring-room in the days when overlookers and jobbers carried straps and used them.