"Well, let's go and see how it works in practice. I'd die happy if I thought one of your old inventions was really going to make your fortune."
"I'm afraid there isn't time now. I must hurry off to the shop. But we'll try it to-night when I get back. It's a pity old Wilkins insisted on my working out my week's notice; I'd have liked to devote all my time to it."
"Can't you forfeit your screw or something?"
"I offered to, but Wilkins wouldn't hear of it, and as I hate bothers, and my leaving without notice would certainly put him in a hole, I'll stick it till Saturday. Are you coming with me to the shop?"
"I'll walk with you so far; then I'll go on to the town and inquire tenderly after Noakes. We'll meet at the 'Three Tuns' for lunch. Mrs. Pouncey will be glad of a day off."
Encased in macintoshes, they trudged up the muddy lane. At the corner they met a farmer driving his cart westward. He nodded to Templeton.
"You've gotten she at last, zur," he said, with a smile.
"Yes; all right now, Mr. West."
"Ay. I knowed she'd come, gie un time. Gie un time, I said, and she'll come. Well, marnen to 'ee, zur."
"Who's your she, Bob?" asked Eves as they went on.