Every little cog and wheel was worth looking at, and the smallest nut and screw more interesting to him than all the football in Ironboro'. Mr. Dainton had given him leave to stay, and Joe, the watchman, would let him out when he was ready.
He had watched the fitters at their work and thought wistfully of the years that must go by before he would be as clever as they. But every hour of learning would help and he would find out some things now.
So he got down and crawled under the boiler and inspected everything there, trying to understand the massive architecture of the iron steed.
Perhaps the faint warmth lulled him unconsciously, but in a place where most boys would have felt very uncomfortable, he presently went fast asleep. How long he had been there could not be told, but suddenly a sound of voices close by roused him completely.
"I tell you, man, there's no danger at all! That bottle of whisky will make old Joe sleep till midnight, and the little gate's ajar, and everybody off to the match. Just help me up and I'll spring back the fastening and get in through the side window. I've got keys, and with luck I can get the tracings and have them all copied out before dark. And there's a sovereign for your trouble as soon as I've put them back again to-night. Monks' will see me right if I can manage it, and their draughtsman's waiting. I shan't touch anything else, so nobody 'll be the wiser."
[Illustration: "'I TELL YOU THERE'S NO DANGER AT ALL!'">[
Dick felt the perspiration on his brow as he recognised Whatman's voice. Then peering out cautiously he saw him walk towards the manager's office with a tall, well-dressed stranger.
He was not quite sure what tracings might be, but he knew the firm had plans for new machinery in hand, from which great things were to be expected, for he had heard the fitters talking about it.