Chapter 25. A Terrible Risk

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_ CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. A TERRIBLE RISK

"What are you staring at, Cob?"

It was Uncle Jack who spoke, and Uncle Dick had just come up with him, to find me in the yard, looking up at the building.

It was dinner-hour, and all the men had gone but Pannell, who was sitting on a piece of iron out in the yard calmly cutting his bread and meat into squares and then masticating them as if it were so much tilt-hammer work that he had to do by the piece.

"I was thinking, Uncle, suppose they were to set fire to us some night, what should we do?"

"Hah! Yes: not a bad thought," said Uncle Dick sharply. "Pannell!"

"Hillo!" said that gentleman, rising slowly.

"Finish eating your bread and meat as you go, will you, and buy us twenty-four buckets."

"Fower-and-twenty boockets," said Pannell, speaking with his mouth full. "What do yow want wi fower-and-twenty boockets?"

"I'll show you this evening," replied my uncle; and, handing the man a couple of sovereigns, Pannell went off, and both Uncle Jack and I laughed at the quick way in which Uncle Dick had determined to be provided for an emergency.

The buckets came, and were run by their handles upon a pole which was supported upon two great hooks in one of the outhouses against the wall of the yard, and some of the men noticed them, but the greater part seemed to pay not the slightest heed to this addition to our defences.

But at leaving time, after a few words from Uncle Dick to Uncle Jack, the latter stood in the yard as the men came out, and said sharply:

"Four-and-twenty men for a window wash. Who'll help?"

A few months before, such a demand would have been met with a scowl; but quite a little crowd of the men now stopped, and Pannell said with a grin:

"Wonder whether there'll be a boocket o' beer efter?"

"Why, of course there will, my lad," cried Uncle Jack, who ranged the men in order.

"Why, 'tis like being drilled for milishy, mester," said one man, and there was a roar of laughter as the buckets were passed out of the shed, and the men were placed in two rows, with Uncle Jack at one end, Uncle Dick at the other; the two ends resting, as a soldier would say, on the dam, and on the works.

It was wonderful how a little management and discipline made easy such a business as this, and I could not help smiling as I saw how my idea had been acted upon.

There were a few sharp words of command given, and then Uncle Jack dipped his bucket into the dam from the stone edge where we had bathed poor Piter, filled it, passed it on to Number 1 of the first row, and took a bucket from the last man of the second row, to fill. Meanwhile the first bucket was being passed on from hand to hand through a dozen pairs when it reached Uncle Dick, who seized it, hurled it up against the grimy windows of the works, and then passed it to the first man of the second row.

In a minute or two the men were working like a great machine, the pails being dipped and running, or rather being swung, from hand to hand till they reached Uncle Dick, who dashed the water over the windows, and here and there, while the empty buckets ran back to Uncle Jack.

The men thoroughly enjoyed it, and Pannell shouted that this would be the way to put out a fire. But my uncles did not take up the idea, working steadily on, and shifting the line till the whole of the glazed windows had been sluiced, and a lot of the grit and rubbish washed away from the sills and places, after which the buckets were again slung in a row and the men had their beer, said "Good-night!" quite cheerily, and went away.

"There," said Uncle Dick, "I call that business. How well the lads worked!"

"Yes," said Uncle Jack with a sigh of content as he wiped his streaming brow; "we could not have got on with them like that three months ago."

"No," said Uncle Bob, who had been looking on with me, and keeping dry; "the medicine is working faster and faster; they are beginning to find us out."

"Yes," said Uncle Dick. "I think we may say it is peace now."

"Don't be in too great a hurry, my boys," said Uncle Jack. "There is a good deal more to do yet."

It is one of the terrible misfortunes of a town like Arrowfield that accidents among the work-people are so common. There was an excellent hospital there, and it was too often called into use by some horror or another.

It would be a terrible tale to tell of the mishaps that we heard of from week to week: men burned by hot twining rods; by the falling of masses of iron or steel that were being forged; by blows of hammers; and above all in the casting-shops, when glowing fluid metal was poured into some mould which had not been examined to see whether it was free from water.

Do you know what happens then? Some perhaps do not. The fluid metal runs into the mould, and in an instant the water is turned into steam, by whose mighty power the metal is sent flying like a shower, the mould rent to pieces, and all who are within range are horribly burned.

That steam is a wonderful slave, but what a master! It is kept bound in strong fetters by those who force its obedience; but woe to those who give it the opportunity to escape by some neglect of the proper precautions.

One accident occurred at Arrowfield during the winter which seemed to give the final touch to my uncles' increasing popularity with the work-people, and we should have had peace, if it had not been for the act of a few malicious wretches that took place a month or too later.

It was one evening when we had left the works early with the intention of having a good long fireside evening, and perhaps a walk out in the frosty winter night after supper, that as we were going down one of the busy lanes with its works on either side, we were suddenly arrested by a deafening report followed by the noise of falling beams and brickwork.

As far as we could judge it was not many hundred yards away, and it seemed to be succeeded by a terrible silence.

Then there was the rushing of feet, the shouting of men, and a peculiar odour smote upon our nostrils.

"Gunpowder!" I exclaimed as I thought of our escapes.

"No," said Uncle Dick. "Steam."

"Yes," said Uncle Jack. "Some great boiler has burst. Heaven help the poor men!"

Following the stream of people we were not long in reaching the gateway of one of the greatest works in Arrowfield. Everything was in such a state of confusion that our entrance was not opposed; and in a few minutes we saw by the light of flaring gas-jets, and of a fire that had begun to blaze, one of the most terrible scenes of disaster I had ever witnessed.

The explosion had taken place in the huge boiler-house of the great iron-works, a wall had been hurled down, part of the iron-beamed roof was hanging, one great barrel-shaped boiler had been blown yards away as if it had been a straw, and its fellow, about twenty feet long, was ripped open and torn at the rivets, just as if the huge plates of iron of which it was composed were so many postage-stamps torn off and roughly crumpled in the hand.

There was a great crowd collecting, and voices shouted warning to beware of the falling roof and walls that were in a crumbling condition. But these shouts were very little heeded in the presence of the cries and moans that could be heard amongst the piled-up brickwork. Injured men were there, and my uncles were among the first to rush in and begin bearing them out--poor creatures horribly scalded and crushed.

Then there was a cry for picks and shovels--some one was buried; and on these being brought the men plied them bravely till there was a warning shout, and the rescue party had only just time to save themselves from a falling wall which toppled over with a tremendous crash, and sent up a cloud of dust.

The men rushed in again, though, and in an incredibly short space of time they had dug and torn away a heap of broken rubbish, beneath which moans could be heard.

I stood close beside my uncles, as, blackened and covered with dust and sweat, they toiled away, Uncle Jack being the first to chase away the horrible feeling of fear that was upon me lest they should be too late.

"Here he is," he cried; and in a few minutes more, standing right down in a hole, he lifted the poor maimed creature who had been crying for our help.

There was a tremendous cheer raised here, and the poor fellow was carried out, while Uncle Dick, who, somehow, seemed to be taking the lead, held up his hand.

"Hark!" he said.

But there was no sound.

"If there is no living creature here," he said, "we must get out. It is not safe to work till the roof has been blown down or fallen. If there is anyone alive, my lads, we must have him out at all risks."

There was a cheer at this, and then, as soon as he could get silence, Uncle Jack shouted:

"Is anyone here?"

There was a low wailing cry for help far back beyond the ripped-up boiler, and in what, with tottering wall and hanging roof, was a place too dangerous to approach.

"Come, lads, we must have him out," cried Uncle Dick; but a gentleman, who was evidently one of the managers, exclaimed:

"No, it is too dangerous."

"Volunteers!" cried Uncle Dick.

Uncle Jack, Uncle Bob, Pannell, Stevens, and four more men went to his side, and in the midst of a deathly silence we saw them go softly in and disappear in the gloom of the great wrecked boiler-house.

Then there was utter silence, out of which Uncle Dick's voice came loud and clear, but ominously followed by the rattling down of some fragments of brick.

"Where are you? Try and speak."

A low piteous moan was the reply.

"All right, my lads, down here!" we heard Uncle Jack cry. "No picks-- hands, hands."

"And work gently," cried Uncle Dick.

Then, in the midst of the gloom we could hear the rattling of bricks and stones, and though we could see nothing we could realise that these brave men were digging down with their hands to try and get out the buried stoker.

The flames burned up brightly, casting curious shadows, and though we could see nothing, lighting the men over their gallant task, while I, as I gazed in, trying to penetrate the gloom, felt as if I ought to be there by my uncles' side.

This feeling grew so strong that at last I took a few steps forward, but only to be seized by a pair of strong arms and brought back.

"Nay, nay, lad," said a voice that I started to hear, for it was Gentles'; "there's plenty risking their lives theer. Yow stay."

Just then there was a hoarse shriek of terror, a wild yell from the crowd, for a curious rushing rumble was heard, a dull thud, and another cloud of dust came rolling out, looking like smoke as it mingled with the fire.

In the midst of this the men who had been digging in the ruins came rushing out.

"Part of the roof," cried Uncle Dick, panting, "and the rest's falling. Are you all here, lads?"

"Ay, all," was answered as they looked from one to the other in the flickering light.

"Nay, not all," shouted Stevens. "Owd lad Pannell's buried alive. I see 'un fall."

There was a murmur of horror and a burst of wailing, for now a number of women had joined the throng.

"Are you hurt?" I cried anxiously.

"Only a few cuts and bruises, Cob," said Uncle Dick. "Now, my lads, quick. We must have them out."

The men stopped short, and there was a low angry murmur like the muttering of a coming storm.

"Quick, my lads, quick!"

There was a hoarse cry for help from out of the ruins, and I knew it must be our poor smith.

"No, sir, stop," cried the gentleman who had before spoken. "I'd dare anything, but we have sacrificed one life in trying to save others. I have just been round, and I say that at the least movement of the ruins the left wall must come down."

There was a loud cry of assent to this, and amongst shouts and a confused murmur of voices there came out of the gloom that fearful cry again:

"Help!"

"The wall must fall, men," cried Uncle Dick loudly. "I can't stand and hear that cry and not go. Once more volunteers."

Half a dozen men started out of the crowd; but the peril was too great. They shrank back, and I saw my three uncles standing together in the bright light of the burning building, blackened, bleeding, and in rags.

Then Uncle Dick put out his two hands, and Uncle Jack and Uncle Bob took them. They stood together for a short minute, and then went towards the tottering wall.

"Stop!" cried the gentleman. "You must not risk your lives."

For answer Uncle Jack turned his great manly face towards us and waved his hand.

Then they disappeared in the gloom, and a curious murmur ran along the great crowd. It was neither sigh, groan, nor cry, but a low hushed murmur of all these; and once more, as a dead silence fell, we heard that piteous cry, followed by a hoarse cheer, as if the sufferer had seen help come.

Then, as we listened in dead silence, the rattling of brickwork came again, mingled with the fluttering of the flames and the crackle and roar of burning as the fire leaped up higher and higher from what had been one of the furnace-holes, and across which a number of rafters and beams had fallen, and were blazing brightly, to light up the horrible scene of ruin.

Battle and crash of bricks and beams, and we all knew that my uncles must be working like giants.

"I daren't go, Mester Jacob," whispered Gentles. "I'd do owt for the brave lads, but it's death to go. It's death, and I daren't."

All at once, as everyone was listening for the fall of the tottering wall, some one caught sight of the moving figures, and a deafening cheer rose up as Uncle Dick appeared carrying the legs and Uncles Jack and Bob the arms of a man.

They came towards where I was standing, so that I was by when poor Pannell was laid down, and I went on one knee by his side.

"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 Dick with a laugh.

"But it is certain death to go in, gentlemen," cried the manager passionately. "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 Dick. "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 hoarse "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 Dick. "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 passed the insulting threat, and Uncle Dick 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 Dick 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 Dick. "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."

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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 Dick 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 Dick talked of going.

"No, there is no reason," said Uncle Dick; "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."

"It's quite right," said Uncle Bob. "We've been remiss. When sentries are set the superior officers always make a point of going their rounds to see if they are all right. Go, Dick, and we'll come with you."

Uncle Dick protested, but we had our own way, and about a quarter to one on a bitter March night we let ourselves out and walked down to the works.

For my part I would far rather have gone to bed, but after a few minutes the excitement of the proceeding began to assert itself, and I was bright and wakeful enough.

We walked quickly and briskly on till we came to the lane by the factory wall; but instead of turning down we all walked on along the edge of the dam, which gleamed coldly beneath the frosty stars. It was very full, for there had been a good deal of rain; and though the air was frosty there was a suggestion of change and more rain before long.

When we reached the top of the dam we turned and looked back.

Everything was as quiet as could be, and here and there the glow from the lowered furnace-fires made a faint halo about the dark building, so quiet and still after the hurry and buzz of the day.

As we went back along the dam the wavelets lapped the stone edge, and down below on the other side, as well as by the waste sluice, we could hear the water rushing along towards the lower part of the town, and onward to the big river that would finally carry it to the sea.

We were very silent, for every one was watching the works, till, as Uncle Dick and I reached the lane, we stopped short, for I caught his arm.

I had certainly heard whispering.

There were half a dozen persons down near the gate, but whoever they were they came towards us, said "good-night!" roughly, turned the corner, and went away.

It looked suspicious for half a dozen men to be down there in the middle of the night, but their manner was inoffensive and civil, and we could see nothing wrong.

Uncle Dick slipped his key into the lock, and as he opened the little door in the gate there was a low growl and the rush of feet.

"Piter's on the watch," I said quietly, and the growl turned to a whine of welcome.

"Be on the look-out," said Uncle Dick; "we must speak or Searby may attack us."

"Right," said Uncle Jack; "but he had better not."

The dog did not bark, but trotted on before us, and we could just see him as we took a look round the yard before going into the buildings.

Everything was quite right as far as we could tell. Nothing unusual to be seen anywhere, and we went at last to the main entrance.

"Nothing could be better," said Uncle Dick. "Only there is no watchman. I say, was I right in coming?"

"Right enough," replied Uncle Jack; "but look out now for squalls. Men in the dark have a suspicious look."

We entered, peered in at the great grinding-shop, and then began to ascend the stairs to the upper works.

"All right!" said Uncle Dick. "I wish we had a light. Can you hear him?"

He had stopped short on the landing, and we could hear a low, muttering noise, like a bass saw cutting hard leather.

_Score! Score! Score_! Slowly and regularly; the heavy breathing of a deep sleeper.

"I'm glad we've got a good watcher," said Uncle Jack drily. "Here, Piter, dog, fetch him out. Wake him then."

The dog understood him, for he burst into a furious fit of barking and charged up into the big workshop, and then there was a worrying noise as if he were dragging at the watchman's jacket.

"Get out! Be off! Do you hear!"

"Hi, Searby!" roared Uncle Jack.

There was a plunge, and a rush to the door, and Searby's big voice cried:

"Stand back, lads, or I'll blow out thee brains."

"What with?" said Uncle Bob; "the forge blast? There, come down."

Searby came down quickly.

"Lucky for yow that one of yo' spoke," he said. "I heard you coming, and was lying wait for you. Don't do it agen, mesters. I might hev half-killed yo'."

"Next time you lie in wait," said Uncle Dick, "don't breathe so loudly, my man, or you will never trap the visitors. They may think you are asleep."

"Give him another chance," said Uncle Jack as we went home.

"Yes," said Uncle Bob; "it is partly our fault. If we had visited him once or twice he would have been always on the watch."

"Well," said Uncle Dick, "I don't want to be unmerciful, and it will be a lesson. He'll work hard to regain our confidence."

Next morning there were two letters in strange hands, which Uncle Jack read and then handed round.

One was a threat such as had often been received before; but the other was of a very different class. It was as follows:

"Mesters,--There's somewhat up. We don't kno wat, but game o' some kind's going to be played. Owd Tommy Searby gos sleep ivvery night, and he's no good. Some on us gives a look now an' then o' nights but yowd beter wetch im place yoursens.--Some frends."

"That's genuine," said Uncle Dick emphatically. "What's to be done?"

"Go and do as they advise," said Uncle Jack. "You see we have won the fellows over, and they actually act as a sort of police for us."

The consequence of this letter was that sometimes all four, sometimes only two of us went and kept watch there of a night, very much to old Searby's disgust, but we could not afford to heed him, and night after night we lost our rest for nothing.

"Are we being laughed at?" said Uncle Bob wearily one night; "I'm getting very tired of this."

"So we all are, my dear fellow," said Uncle Jack: "but I can't help thinking that it is serious."

Uncle Jack was right, for serious it proved. _

Read next: Chapter 26. Fire And Water

Read previous: Chapter 24. Uncle Jack And I Have A Run

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