"Well, I hope you won't get burnt over this. Good night."
"Good night."
Next day the old vicar went back to his flock again leaving a cordial invitation for Darwen to come and see them. Jack saw him off.
"A very fine young fellow that. I'm glad you've made friends with him."
"Yes! he's a jolly good sort," Jack answered, enthusiastically, having fresh in his memory Darwen's offer of assistance.
The same night, Carstairs, Bounce, and Darwen held a council of war in the shift engineer's office. "What we wants to do," Bounce said, "is to find out what 'e wants. If it's murder 'e's after, we'll shanghai 'im, if it's only a row, we'll give 'im that, but the first thing to do is to capture 'im."
Carstairs sat on the side of the table puffing slowly at his pipe. "Thanks very much for the suggestion and offer of assistance, Bounce, but I don't want to shanghai him, I only want to get a fair show, also I don't mind giving him a fair show if that will satisfy him."
The Quixotic strain of the Englishman was coming out in him. They observed him in wonder. "Giving him a fair show?" they queried in a breath.
He drawled very slowly. "I mean to say," he said, "I broke his leg. I beat him once, but I had some assistance; if he fancies he can give me a licking fair and square, I don't mind giving him a trial, provided, of course, that that is really what is worrying him, you understand."
Bounce nodded, a compound now of comprehension and disapproval, his face expressed a keen appreciation of the principle involved, but a strong objection to the practice suggested. "It's revenge 'e's after, 'e don't want no fair play. Them sort o' blokes don't appreciate fair play. You give 'im a licking once, 'e wants to give you one in the back now. Most like you could buy 'im off."