Dick Lionheart Part 9

"You won't catch me going into the sheds, father, when I leave school.

I'm going to be a farmer and ride on horseback all day long."

"You'll be a poor farmer at that rate, Ted," his mother said quietly.

"What about feeding stock and ploughing and sowing and reaping?"

"Oh, but I should keep men to do all that," was the lofty reply.

"Yes, but you must at least know how it is all done, if you are to make farming pay. That's why d.i.c.k here has to begin at the very bottom and do all sorts of black work before he can be a great engineer and come out at the top of the tree."

"And must he have black eyes as well?" asked Nellie pointedly; "and have his face spoiled?"

"No, little one, that is another matter. Whatman ought to be sent about his business and should be, if I had the management. But a black eye is no disgrace when you get it for resisting evil."

"There's a verse that's just meant for you, d.i.c.k," said Mrs. Dainton kindly, "and you ought to learn it by heart. 'Consider Him who endured such contradiction of sinners against Himself, lest ye be weary and faint in your minds.' I'll show it to you after tea."

"And then, as it is a wet night, you can all have a game with Pat in the kitchen before d.i.c.k goes to school."

"School at night," asked Teddy in amazement. "And after working all day. Haven't you learned enough?"

"Not half," said d.i.c.k, laughing at the comical tone of dismay.

"There's a world-full of things I don't know anything about, especially drawing and hard sums. I want them because they'll help me to be a fitter by and by."

But Teddy whistled in a very unbelieving way, and presently went off to the kitchen, as he explained, to give the poor dog a bone.

And when the others moved a few minutes afterwards, they were startled by a cry from Nellie, who had gone after Teddy.

All her family of five cherished dolls were hanging by their back hair from the hooks on the kitchen dresser, while Pat marched about with her Sunday doll's best velvet hat set rakishly on his head, and a Red Riding Hood cloak on his back!

CHAPTER IX.

STOPPING A BURGLARY.

It was Sat.u.r.day afternoon and the great machine shops at Lisle & Co.'s were closing for the weekly half holiday. There was to be an important football match at the Marshes outside the town, and the boys and men had talked of little else all the week.

"Art coming, d.i.c.k, to see the match?" asked one of the lads, who had seemed inclined to be friendly during the last week or two. "Yon's a grand team ours are going to play."

"To the match? Not he," sneered Hal Smith, who stood near. "He couldn't spare a tanner for gate money, and he's going to stop at home and say his prayers, little dear, because football's wicked, and he's got to get ready for the Sabbath day."

"Nonsense! There's no harm in football. Own up now, d.i.c.k, wouldn't you like to see the match?"

"Maybe I should, especially if I could be in it," said d.i.c.k, good humouredly.

"Hear him?" shouted Hal in derision, "he wants to be captain of our team, no doubt, the little upstart! Come on, lads, we don't want his company. See, all the others are going."

Soon the tramp of many feet died away, and the yards were left to Sat.u.r.day's quiet and loneliness.

The throb of the machinery and all the stir and clatter of toil had ceased till midnight on Sunday, when the first shift of workers would begin again.

But d.i.c.k felt entirely happy as he took a huge "doorstep" of bread and cheese and a rosy apple from his bag, and began to munch it in the shadow of a great locomotive that stood on the lines, not far from the manager's office.

A few days before this engine had been brought in smoking hot for repairs, and on Monday the work would be finished.

d.i.c.k's quick eyes had seen new features in the make of this visitor, and he resolved to use part of his holiday in investigations. Mrs.

Garth would be busy with her cleaning and would not need him, and Pat, who was beginning to know Sat.u.r.day afternoon, must wait for his weekly outing.

He had on his dirty slop that was already very grimy from the week's wear and toil, and as soon as he had finished his dinner he began a minute inspection of the beautifully finished monster.

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 ma.s.sive 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 n.o.body 'll be the wiser."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'I TELL YOU THERE'S NO DANGER AT ALL!'"]

d.i.c.k 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.

And these men were going to steal them. All sorts of ideas as to how he could stop them flitted through his eager brain while he noiselessly slipped off his shoes, and crawled out, inch by inch. If only the window fastenings would prove refractory and hinder them till he could steal behind the engine sheds and reach the big gates!

With cat-like speed and lightness he crept round the corner, and as soon as he gained shelter, ran at full speed to the small gate, that was half an inch ajar.

Inside the watchman's box old Joe slept heavily, from the effects of the drugged whisky. d.i.c.k dashed out almost into the arms of Policeman X., who looked suspiciously at the breathless lad, in his stockinged feet. "Oh, please, come quick!" he cried, laying hold of the strong hand as no criminal would have done. "They're burglaring the office and stealing tracings. Come now at once!"

"How many?" asked, the policeman with alacrity, as he beckoned to a man in plain clothes opposite.

"Two."

"All right, lead on, and if you're telling a true yarn we'll nab them.

If not--well, mind yourself."

But there was unclouded truth in d.i.c.k's bright eyes, and the man in blue followed him confidently, his mate bringing up the rear.

d.i.c.k led them cautiously till they came close to the locomotive.

Then somebody trod on a piece of loose iron, and there was a slight clinking noise. In affright Whatman darted round the office, to be instantly taken possession of by the second man, while policeman X. ran forward and caught the stranger, who was just emerging from the window with a slim roll of papers in his hand.

"Well caught!" said the man in plain clothes, as he slipped the handcuffs on.