"Oh," he said, in a completely changed tone, and made his way quickly to where Carstairs was.
"Who are you?" he asked.
Carstairs was dressed and just moving off, "My name is Carstairs. I'm an engineer too, electrical and mechanical. I'm staying at the Blue Boar in the village, I have an engagement now. If you will call there this evening, I shall be pleased to have a talk with you."
"But what's the fight about? Have my men been molesting you?"
"Oh no." Carstairs looked round, the navvies were beginning to move off hurriedly. He did not want to get them into trouble, still he was not good at lying. "I was to blame," he said. "We had a difference of opinion and settled it in the time-honoured way; they behaved like gentlemen."
The little man's eyes sparkled. He looked round, but the last of the five hundred was disappearing hurriedly, like a cart horse colt over the hillock. He laughed aloud. "They're just damn great kids! those chaps, but the very best. I shan't be able to get within earshot of one of 'em till Monday morning now. They'll shun me like the plague." He laughed again. "By George they are rum chaps. About the first week they were here there was a violent row with the old farmer on the hill there." He pointed to a farm house in the distance. "They went rabbiting with dogs and ferrets right in front of his house; when he expostulated, they were going to pull his place to pieces. He sent for me. I couldn't stop their poaching, of course, nobody could; but I objected to their threatening the man. 'Well, sir,' they said (it was that man Moore by the way), 'what beat us was the cheek o' the beggar coming an' talking to three on us.' He didn't speak to one of them afterwards, poor chap, he was frightened out of his wits; they're a mean sort of swine, farmers. Fancy grousing about a blooming rabbit."
Carstairs laughed. "How about the woods over there?" he asked.
"Oh, I don't think there's much left in 'em now. The keepers keep away when my chaps are about." The little man laughed. "They have elaborate shooting parties with plenty of beer, and about six old guns between 'em. Take it in turns for a shot. Gravely presented me with a pair of pheasants once, and got quite shirty when I wouldn't have 'em; couldn't understand that they were stolen. 'Why! the keeper seen us,' they explained. 'If he'd been a wise man he would have not seen you,' I said. 'Will 'e 'ave a trout then, mister?' 'No thanks,' I said. 'Well, I'm beggared,' they answered, and went away growling. They still think I'm a bit mad."
They laughed together and strolled on. Carstairs was obviously impatient, but the little man did not see it. He only met men with a soul above beer at very rare intervals.
"Damn funny chaps, you know, but the best, the very best, at heart. Don't care tuppence for anybody, and quite fail to see why they should. 'When my 'at's on, my roof's on, an' off I goes,' they say. They wander up and get a start, work for a day, 'sub' a 'bob,' and slope off. Sometimes a man will start one day, and next a policeman arrives, and the man is missing, two or three more with him very likely. Damn funny chaps. What for? Oh, nothing serious as a rule, pinching a pair of boots from a shop window, or something like that, you know; I had a man murdered once, though; not here—up in the midlands, had a hole knocked in his head with a pick axe, never found out who did it. There are black sheep in every flock, of course."