“Howd hard theer,” he cried in his shrill voice. “Six to one, and him one o’ the mesters.”
Just then Uncles Jack and Dick strode in through the gates, saw the situation at a glance, and ran to strengthen our side.
“What’s this?” roared Uncle Dick furiously, as Uncle Jack clenched his fists and looked round, as it seemed to me, for some one to knock down. “In to your work, every man of you.”
“Bands is gone,” said a sneering voice.
“Then get off our premises, you dogs!” he roared. “Out of that gate, I say, every man who is against us.”
“Oh, we’re not agen you, mester,” said Gentles smoothly. “I’m ready for wuck, on’y the bands is gone. Yow mean wuck, eh, mates?”
“Then go and wait till we have seen what is to be done. Do you hear?—go.”
He advanced on the men so fiercely that they backed from him, leaving Pannell only, and he stooped to help up the big grinder, who rose to his feet shaking his head like a dog does to get the water out of his ears, for there must have been a loud singing noise there.
“Off with you!” said Uncle Dick turning upon these two.
“Aw reight, mester,” said Pannell. “I were on’y helping the mate. Mester Robert there did gie him a blob.”