Patience Wins Part 67

"Much hurt?" I panted.

"Nay, more scared than hurt, lad," he said. "I was buried up to my neck, and feeling's gone out of my legs."

"Stop now, gentlemen, for heaven's sake!" cried the manager.

"What! And leave a poor fellow we have promised to come back and help!"

cried Uncle d.i.c.k with a laugh.

"But it is certain death to go in, gentlemen," cried the manager pa.s.sionately. "At the least vibration the roof will fall. I should feel answerable for your lives. I tell you it is death to go."

"It is moral death to stay away," cried Uncle d.i.c.k. "What would you do, Cob?"

"Go!" I cried proudly, and then I started up panting, almost sobbing, to try and stop them. "No, no," I cried; "the danger is too great."

I saw them wave their hands in answer to the cheer that rose, and I saw Pannell wave his with a hoa.r.s.e "Hooroar!" and then the gloom had swallowed them up again.

"I lay close to the poor lad," whispered Pannell. "Reg'lar buried alive. Asked me to kill him out of his misery, he did, as I lay there; but I said, 'howd on, my lad. Them three mesters 'll fetch us out,' and so they will."

"If the roof don't fall," said a low voice close by me, and the same voice said, "Lift this poor fellow up and take him to the infirmary."

"Nay, I weant go," cried Pannell, "aw want to stay here and see them mesters come out."

"Let him rest," said the manager, and upon his asking me I raised Pannell's head, and let him rest against my chest.

Then amidst the painful silence, and the fluttering and crackling of the fire, we heard again the rattling of bricks and stones; but it was mingled with the falling of pieces from the roof. Then there was a crash and a shriek from the women as a cloud of dust rose, and my heart seemed to stand still, for I felt that my uncles must have been buried; but no, the sound of the bricks and stones being dragged out still went on, and the men gave another cheer.

The manager went round again to the back of the place, and came tearing back with three or four men shouting loudly:

"Come out! Come out! She's going!"

Then there was a horrible cry, for with a noise like thunder the left side and part of the roof of the building fell.

The dust was tremendous, and it was some minutes before the crowd could rush in armed with shovels and picks to dig out the bodies of the brave men buried.

The murmur was like that of the sea, for every man seemed to be talking excitedly, and as I knelt there by Pannell I held the poor fellow's hand, clinging to him now, and too much shocked and unnerved to speak.

"They're killed--they're killed," I groaned.

But as I spoke the words the people seemed to have gone mad; they burst into such a tremendous cheer, backing away from the ruins, and dividing as they reached us to make way for my uncles to bear to the side of Pannell the insensible figure of the man they had saved.

That brave act performed for an utter stranger made the Arrowfield men talk of my uncles afterwards as being of what they called real grit; and all through the winter and during the cold spring months everything prospered wonderfully at the works. We could have had any number of men, and for some time it was dangerous for my uncles--and let me modestly say I seemed to share their glory--to go anywhere near a gathering of the workmen, they were so cheered and hero-worshipped.

But in spite of this good feeling there was no concealing the fact that a kind of ill-will was fostered against our works on account of the new inventions and contrivances we had. From whence this ill-will originated it was impossible to say, but there it was like a smouldering fire, ready to break forth when the time should come.

"Another threatening letter," Uncle Jack would say, for he generally attended to post matters.

"Give it to me," said Uncle Bob. "Those letters make the best pipe-lights, they are so incendiary."

"Shall we take any notice--appeal to the men--advertise a reward for the sender?"

"No," said Uncle d.i.c.k. "With patience we have got the majority of the workmen with us. We'll show them we trust to them for our defence.

Give me that letter."

Uncle Jack pa.s.sed the insulting threat, and Uncle d.i.c.k gummed it and stuck it on a sheet of foolscap, and taking four wafers, moistened them and stuck the foolscap on the office door with, written above it to order by me in a bold text hand:

"_Cowards' Work_."

and beneath it:

"_To be Treated with the Contempt it Deserves_."

But as time went on the threats received about what would be done if such and such processes were not given up grew so serious that when Mr Tomplin was told he said that we ought to put ourselves under the care of the police.

"No," said Uncle d.i.c.k firmly; "we began on the principle of being just to our workmen, and of showing them that we studied their interests as well as our own, that we are their friends as well as masters, and that we want them to be our friends."

"But they will not be," said Mr Tomplin, shaking his head.

"But they are," said Uncle d.i.c.k. "What took place when I stuck that last threat on the door?"

"The men hooted and yelled and spat upon it."

"But was that an honest demonstration?"

"I believe it was."

"Well," said Mr Tomplin, "we shall see. You gentlemen quite upset my calculations, but I must congratulate you upon the manner in which you have made your way with the men."

"I wish we could get hold of the scoundrels who send these letters."

"Yes," said Mr Tomplin; "the wire-pullers who make use of the men for their own ends, and will not let the poor fellows be frank and honest when they would. They're a fine race of fellows if they are led right, but too often they are led wrong."

The days glided on, and as there were no results from these threats we began to laugh at them when they came, especially as Tom Searby the watchman also said they were good for pipe-lights, and that was all.

But one night Uncle d.i.c.k took it into his head to go down to the works and see that all was right.

Nothing of the kind had been done before since the watchman came, for everything went on all right; the place was as it should be, no bands were touched, and there seemed to be no reason for showing any doubt of the man; and so Uncle Jack said when Uncle d.i.c.k talked of going.

"No, there is no reason," said Uncle d.i.c.k; "but I cannot help feeling that we have been lulling ourselves too much into a feeling of security about the place. I shall wait till about one o'clock, and then walk down."

"No, no," said Uncle Jack; "I'm tired. Had a very heavy day, and of course you cannot go alone."

"Why not?"

"Because we should not let you. Even Cob would insist upon going."

"Of course!" I said. "I had made up my mind to go."