At last an idea came. He would go downstairs to get some more cement. Having confided this plan to Owen, he crept quietly back to the room in which he had been working, then he walked noisily across the landing again.
“Got a bit of stopping to spare, Frank?” he asked in a loud voice.
“No,” replied Owen. “I’m not using it.”
“Then I suppose I’ll have to go down and get some. Is there anything I can bring up for you?”
“No, thanks,” replied Owen.
Philpot marched boldly down to the scullery, which Crass had utilized as a paint-shop. Crass was there mixing some colour.
“I want a bit of stopping,” Philpot said as he helped himself to some.
“Is the b—r gorn?” whispered Crass.
“I don’t know,” replied Philpot. “Where’s his bike?”
“’E always leaves it outside the gate, so’s we can’t see it,” replied Crass.