'Well, my men, good-morning! What have you done?' said the Squire peremptorily.
Dodge looked up.
'We've put a bit of wire on the gate, Squoire, an' fastened the latch of it up—and we've put a length or two along the top of the wall,' said the old man slowly—'an' then—' He paused.
'Then what?—what about the hurdles? I expected to find them all up by now!'
Dodge looked at Perley. And Perley, a gaunt, ugly fellow, who had been a famous hunter and trapper in his day, took off his hat and mopped his brow, before he said, in a small, cautious voice, entirely out of keeping with the rest of him:
'The treuth on it is, Squoire, we don't loike the job. We be afeard of their havin' the law on us.'
'Oh, you're afraid, are you?' said the Squire angrily. 'You won't stand up for your rights, anyway!'
Perley looked at his employer a little askance.
'They're not our rights, if you please, Muster Mannering. We don't have nothing to say to 'un.'
'They are your rights, you foolish fellow! If this abominable Government tramples on me to-day, it'll trample on you to-morrow.'