"You four must pacify the country first," he added laughing, "and have the business in good going order."

My visit was very pleasant, and I could not help feeling proud of the treatment I received at home; but all the same I was glad to start again for Arrowfield and join my uncles in their battle for success.

For there was something very exciting in these struggles with the men, and now I was away all this seemed to be plainer, and the attraction grew so that there was a disposition on my part to make those at home quite at their ease as to the life I was leading down at Arrowfield.

At last the day came for me to start on my return journey, when once more I had a packet to bear.

"I need not tell you that it is of great value, Cob," said my father.

"b.u.t.ton it up in your pocket, and then forget all about it. That is the safest way. It takes off all the consciousness."

"I don't suppose I shall meet my friend this time," I said.

My father shuddered slightly.

"It is not likely," he said; "but I should strongly advise you to change carriages if you find yourself being left alone with a stranger."

Word had been sent down as to the train I should travel by, and in due time I found myself on the Arrowfield platform and back at our new home, where Mrs Stephenson and Tattsey were ready with the most friendly of smiles.

"Everything has been going on splendidly," was the report given to me.

Piter had been carefully attended to, and the works watched as well as if I had been at Arrowfield.

I felt annoyed, and, I suppose, showed it, for it seemed as if my uncles were bantering me, but the annoyance pa.s.sed off directly under the influence of the warmth displayed by all three.

"I'm beginning to be hopeful now that work will go on steadily, that this watching can be given up, and that we can take to a few country excursions, some fishing, and the like."

That was Uncle d.i.c.k's expressed opinion; and I was glad enough to hear it, for though I did not mind the work I liked some play.

Uncle Jack was just as hopeful; but Uncle Bob evidently was not, for he said very little.

This time I had travelled by a day train, and I was quite ready to take my turn at the watching that night. Uncle Jack, whose turn it was, opposed my going, as I had been travelling so far; but I insisted, saying that I had had my regular night's rest ever since I had left them, and was consequently quite fresh.

I wanted to ask Uncle Bob where he had hidden the trap, but I had no opportunity, and as neither Uncle d.i.c.k nor Uncle Jack made any allusion to it I did not start the subject.

Perhaps Uncle Bob had not told them, meaning to have a few words with me first.

It almost seemed like coming home to enter the works again, where Piter was most demonstrative in his affection, and carried it to such an extent that I could hardly get away.

I had a look round the gloomy old place at once, and felt quite a thrill of pride in the faintly glowing furnaces and machinery as I thought of the endless things the place was destined to produce.

"Look here, Cob," said Uncle Jack, "I shall lie down for three hours, mind; and at the end of that time you are to wake me. It is only nine o'clock now, and you can get over that time with a book. There will be no need to walk round the place."

"Would Piter warn us, do you think?" I said.

"Oh, yes! It is getting quite a form our being here. The men are toning down."

He threw himself on the bed, and I took up a book and read for an hour, after which I had a walk through the gloomy workshops, and in and out of the furnace-houses and smithies, where all was quiet as could be.

After this I felt disposed to go and open the big door and look down into the wheel-pit. I don't know why, only that the place attracted me.

I did not, however, but walked back to the doorway to look at the glow which overhung the town, with the heavy canopy of ruddy smoke, while away behind me the stars were shining brightly, and all was clear.

I patted Piter, who came to the full length of his chain, and then I had a look about with the lantern to see if I could find where Uncle Bob had put the trap.

I felt that it must be under lock and key somewhere, but the cupboards had nothing to show, and, try how I would, I could think of no likely place for it to be hidden in. So I gave up the task of trying to find it, and walked back to the door, where I found Piter lying down hard at work trying to push his collar over his head.

The patient, persevering way in which he tried, getting both his fore-paws against it, was most amusing, the more so that there was not the slightest possibility of success attending his efforts, for his neck, which the collar fitted pretty closely, was small, and his bullet head enormous by comparison.

"Come," I said, as I bent over him; "shall I undo it for you?"

He looked up at me as I put the dark lantern down, and whined softly.

Then he began working at the collar again.

"Look here," I said, as I sat on the bottom step. "Shall I undo it?"

Dogs must have a good deal of reason, for Piter leaped up and laid his head in my lap directly, holding it perfectly still while I unbuckled the strap collar, when he gave a sniff or two at my hands, licked them, and bounded off to have a regular good run all over the place before he came back and settled down close to me in the little office where I was trying to read.

Twelve o'clock at last, and I awoke Uncle Jack, who rose at once, fresh and clear as if he were amply rested, and soon after I was fast asleep, dreaming away and fancying I could hear the rattle and the throb of the train. Then I was talking to that man again, and then swinging out on the carriage-door with the wind rushing by, and the bluff man leaning out over me, and Piter on the carriage with him, barking at my aggressor, who was shrieking for mercy.

Then I was awake, to see that it was Uncle Jack who was leaning over me, and the window was open, admitting a stream of cold air and a curious yelling noise, mingled with the barking of a dog.

"What is the matter?" I cried.

"That's what I want to know," said Uncle Jack. "I went with a candle, but the wind puffed it out. Where did you put the lantern?"

"Lantern--lantern!" I said in a confused way, "did I have it?"

"Yes; you must have had it. Can't you think? Gracious, what a noise!

Piter must have got someone by the throat."

"Oh, I know!" I cried as I grew more fully awake. "On the shelf in the entry."

We ran down together, and a faint glow showed its whereabouts, still alight, but with the dark shade turned over the bull's-eye.

"Where does the noise come from?" I said, feeling startled at the alarming nature of the cries, freshly awakened as I was from sleep.

"I can hardly tell," he said, seizing the lantern and taking a sharp hold, of his stick. "Bring a stick with you, my boy, for there may be enemies in the way."

"Why, uncle," I cried, "some poor creature has fallen from the side path into the dam."

"Some wretched drunken workman then," he said, as we hurried in the direction, and there seemed to be no doubt about it now, for there was the splashing of water, and the cry of "Help!" while Piter barked more furiously than ever.

We ran down to the edge of the dam, the light of the bull's-eye flashing and dancing over the ground, so that we were able to avoid the different objects lying about; and directly after the light played on the water, and then threw into full view the figure of the bull-dog as he stood on the stone edge of the dam barking furiously at a man's head that was just above the surface of the water.

"Help! Help!" he cried as we drew near, and then I uttered a prolonged "Oh!" and stood still.

"Quiet, Piter! Down, dog! Can't you see it is a friend!"

But the dog seemed to deny it, and barked more furiously than ever.