“Look here, Cob,” said Uncle Jack, “I shall lie down for three hours, mind; and at the end of that time you are to wake me. It is only nine o’clock now, and you can get over that time with a book. There will be no need to walk round the place.”
“Would Piter warn us, do you think?” I said.
“Oh, yes! It is getting quite a form our being here. The men are toning down.”
He threw himself on the bed, and I took up a book and read for an hour, after which I had a walk through the gloomy workshops, and in and out of the furnace-houses and smithies, where all was quiet as could be.
After this I felt disposed to go and open the big door and look down into the wheel-pit. I don’t know why, only that the place attracted me. I did not, however, but walked back to the doorway to look at the glow which overhung the town, with the heavy canopy of ruddy smoke, while away behind me the stars were shining brightly, and all was clear.
I patted Piter, who came to the full length of his chain, and then I had a look about with the lantern to see if I could find where Uncle Bob had put the trap.
I felt that it must be under lock and key somewhere, but the cupboards had nothing to show, and, try how I would, I could think of no likely place for it to be hidden in. So I gave up the task of trying to find it, and walked back to the door, where I found Piter lying down hard at work trying to push his collar over his head.
The patient, persevering way in which he tried, getting both his fore-paws against it, was most amusing, the more so that there was not the slightest possibility of success attending his efforts, for his neck, which the collar fitted pretty closely, was small, and his bullet head enormous by comparison.
“Come,” I said, as I bent over him; “shall I undo it for you?”
He looked up at me as I put the dark lantern down, and whined softly. Then he began working at the collar again.