“They are not likely to try anything to-night,” said Uncle Bob. “There, you two can walk down with us and look round to see if everything is all right and then come back.”
“Don’t you think you ought to have pistols?” said Uncle Jack.
“No,” replied Uncle Dick firmly. “We have our sticks, and the dog, and we’ll do our best with them. If a pistol is used it may mean the destruction of a life, and I would rather give up our adventure than have blood upon our hands.”
“Yes, you are right,” said Uncle Jack. “If bodily injury or destruction is done let them have the disgrace on their side.”
We started off directly, and I could not help noticing how people kept staring at my uncles.
It was not the respectably-dressed people so much as the rough workmen, who were hanging about with their pipes, or standing outside the public-house doors. These scowled and talked to one another in a way that I did not like, and more than once I drew Uncle Dick’s attention to it, but he only smiled.
“We’re strangers,” he said. “They’ll get used to us by and by.”
There was not a soul near the works as we walked up to the gate and were saluted with a furious fit of barking from Piter, who did not know our steps till the key was rattled in the gate. Then he stopped at once and gave himself a shake and whined.
It was growing dusk as we walked round the yard, to find everything quite as it should be. A look upstairs and down showed nothing suspicious; and after a few words regarding keeping a sharp look-out and the like we left the watchers of the night and walked back.
“Cob,” said Uncle Jack as we sat over our supper, “I don’t like those two poor fellows being left there by themselves.”