Mr. Merton did not carry out his plans. As soon as it was dark he left the village, but a hundred yards out he came upon a party of men, evidently posted as sentries. These roughly told him that if he didn't want to be chucked into the canal he'd best go home to bed; and this, after trying another road with the same result, he did.
Jack walked with Harry as far as the railway-station, mentioning to several friends he met that he was off again. The lads crossed the line, went out of the opposite booking-office, and set off—for it was now past five, and already dark—at the top of their speed in different directions. Jack did not stop till he reached the engine-house of the Vaughan mine. The pumps were still clanking inside, and the water streaming down the shoot. Peeping carefully in, to see that his friend, John Ratcliffe, was alone, Jack entered.
"Well, John," he said, "the engine's still going."
"Ay, Jack; but if what's more nor one has told me to-day be true, it be for the last time."
"Look here, John; Mr. Brook has been a good master, will you do him a good turn?"
"Ay, lad, if I can; I've held on here, though they've threatened to chuck me down the shaft; but I'm a married man, and can't throw away my life."
"I don't ask you to, John. I want you to work hard here with me till six o'clock strikes, and then go home as usual."
"What dost want done, lad?"
"What steam is there in the boiler?"
"Only about fifteen pounds. I'm just knocking off, and have banked the fire up."