“Same length as the one that was run in the furnace-house?”
“Yes, mester.”
“You cowardly scoundrel! You were in that too, then,” cried Uncle Jack, going down on one knee and seizing the man by the throat and shaking him till he realised how horribly he was punishing him, when he loosed his hold.
“Don’t kill me, mester. Oh, my wife and bairns!”
“A man with a wife and children, and ready to do such a dastardly act as that! Here, you shall tell me this, who set you on?”
The man set his teeth fast.
“Who set you on, I say?”
“Nay, mester, I canna tell,” groaned Gentles.
“But you shall tell,” roared Uncle Jack. “You shall stay here till you do.”
“I can’t tell; I weant tell,” groaned the man.