Uncle Dick kept his word, and the next morning men were at work arranging fire-bricks for a little furnace which was duly made, and then so much blistered steel was laid in a peculiar way with so much iron, and a certain heat was got up and increased and lowered several times till Uncle Dick was satisfied. He told me that the colour assumed by the metal was the test by which he judged whether it was progressing satisfactorily, and this knowledge could only come by experience.
Everything was progressing most favourably. The men who had been engaged worked well; we had seen no more of those who had had to vacate the works, and all was as it should be. In fact our affairs were so prosperous that to me it seemed great folly for watch to be kept in the works night after night.
I thought it the greatest nonsense possible one night when I had been very busy all day, and it had come to my turn, and I told Uncle Jack so.
“Those fellows were a bit cross at having to turn out,” I said. “Of course they were, and they made a fuss. You don’t suppose they will come again?”
“I don’t know, Cob,” said Uncle Jack quietly.
“But is it likely?” I said pettishly.
“I can’t say, my boy—who can? Strange things have been done down in Arrowfield by foolish workmen before now.”
“Oh, yes!” I said; “but that’s in the past. It isn’t likely that they will come and annoy us. Besides, there’s Piter. He’d soon startle any one away.”
“You think then that there is no occasion for us to watch, Cob?”
“Yes,” I cried eagerly, “that’s just what I think. We can go to bed and leave Piter to keep guard. He would soon give the alarm.”