“Well,” he cried, “why don’t you go, mate? Shut door efter you.”
“Hold the dog, Cob,” said Uncle Jack. “Bob, you take the lantern and open the door and the gate. Lay hold of one side, Dick, I’ll take the other, and we’ll put him out.”
But the man was wide-awake now; and as I darted at Piter and got my hands in his collar and held him back, the fellow made a dash at something lying on the lathe, and as the lantern was changed from hand to hand I caught sight of the barrel of an old horse-pistol.
“Take care!” I shouted, as I dragged Piter back. “Pistol.”
“Yes, pistol, do yer hear?” roared the fellow starting up. “Pistol! And I’ll shute the first as comes anigh me.”
There was a click here, and all was in darkness, for Uncle Bob turned the shade of the lantern and hid it within his coat.
“Put that pistol down, my man, and no harm shall come to you; but you must get out of this place directly.”
“What! Get out! Yes, out you go, whoever you are,” roared the fellow. “I can see you, and I’ll bring down the first as stirs. This here’s a good owd pistol, and she hits hard. Now then open that light and let’s see you go down. This here’s my place and my mates’, and we don’t want none else here. Now then.”
I was struggling in the dark with Piter, and only held him back, there was such strength in his small body, by lifting him by his collar and holding him against me standing on his hind-legs.
But, engaged as I was, I had an excited ear for what was going on, and I trembled, as I expected to see the flash of the pistol and feel its bullet strike me or the dog.