“It is too serious,” I said, “to treat like that; for I am obstinate now much more than I was, and I should like to show these cowards that we are not going to be frightened out of the town.”
“Cob don’t know what fear is,” said Uncle Jack with a bit of a sneer.
“Indeed but I do,” I replied. “I was horribly frightened when I fell into that place; but the more they frighten me, the more I want for us to make them feel that we are not to be beaten by fear.”
“Bravo!” cried Uncle Bob, clapping his hands.
“There! Let’s go on with our work,” said Uncle Dick; “we must win in the end.”
To have seen the works during the next few days, anyone would have supposed that there had never been the slightest trouble there. After due consideration the little platform had been replaced and the bands taken from the grindstone gear duly put in position, the men taking not the slightest notice, but working away most industriously.
Pannell, however, did not come back, and his forge was cold, very much to my uncles’ annoyance. On inquiry being made we were told that his mother was dying, and that he had been summoned to see her.
I felt a little suspicious, but could hardly believe that anything was wrong, till one evening Uncle Jack proposed that we two should have a walk out in the country for a change.
I was only too glad, for the thought of getting away from the smoke and dirt and noise was delightful.
So as to get out sooner we took a short cut and were going down one of the long desolate-looking streets of rows of houses all alike, and built so as to be as ugly as possible, when we saw on the opposite side a man seated upon a door-step in his shirt-sleeves, and with his head a good deal strapped and bandaged.