“Nay, mester, I can always get plenty if I like to wuck.”
“Do you mean what you say, Gentles?”
“Why, mester, wouldn’t I hev been going to club to-day for money to bury a bairn and best wife a man ivver hed if it hadn’t been for you two. Mester, I’d do owt for you now.”
“I believe you, Gentles,” said Uncle Jack in his firm way. “Go back to your stone.”
Gentles smiled all over his face, and ran in before us whistling loudly with his fingers, and the men all turned out and cheered us over and over again, looking as delighted as so many boys.
“Mr Tomplin’s right,” said Uncle Dick; “we’ve done it at last.”
“No, not yet,” said Uncle Jack; “we’ve won the men to our side and all who know us will take our part, but there is that ugly demon to exorcise yet that they call the traäde.”
That night I was going back alone when my heart gave a sort of leap, for just before me, and apparently waylaying me, were two of the boys who had been foremost in hunting me that day. My temper rose and my cheeks flushed; but they had come upon no inimical errand, for they both laughed in a tone that bespoke them the sons of Gentles, and the bigger one spoke in a bashful sort of way.
“Moother said we was to come and ax your pardon, mester. It were on’y meant for a game, and she leathered us both for it.”
“And will you hev this?” said the other, holding out something in a piece of brown-paper.