Uncle Dick slipped his key into the lock, and as he opened the little door in the gate there was a low growl and the rush of feet.
“Piter’s on the watch,” I said quietly, and the growl turned to a whine of welcome.
“Be on the look-out,” said Uncle Dick; “we must speak or Searby may attack us.”
“Right,” said Uncle Jack; “but he had better not.”
The dog did not bark, but trotted on before us, and we could just see him as we took a look round the yard before going into the buildings.
Everything was quite right as far as we could tell. Nothing unusual to be seen anywhere, and we went at last to the main entrance.
“Nothing could be better,” said Uncle Dick. “Only there is no watchman. I say, was I right in coming?”
“Right enough,” replied Uncle Jack; “but look out now for squalls. Men in the dark have a suspicious look.”
We entered, peered in at the great grinding-shop, and then began to ascend the stairs to the upper works.
“All right!” said Uncle Dick. “I wish we had a light. Can you hear him?”