Patience Wins | Page 5

hundreds of works ten times as big as
ours. Nearly everybody is either forging, or casting, or grinding. The

place is full of steam-engines, while the quantity of coal that is burnt
here every day must be prodigious. Aha! Here's Uncle Dick."
He had caught sight of us before we saw him, and threw open the
carriage-door ready to half haul us out, as he shook hands as if we had
not met for months.
"That's right," he cried. "I am glad you've come. I've a cab waiting.
Here, porter, lay hold of this baggage. Well, Cob, what do you think of
Arrowfield?"
"Looks horrible," I said in the disappointed tones of one who is tired
and hungry.
"Yes, outside," said Uncle Dick; "but wait till you see the inside."
Uncle Dick was soon standing in what he called the inside of
Arrowfield--that is to say the inside of the comfortable furnished
lodgings he had taken right up a hill, where, over a cosy tea-table with
hot country cakes and the juiciest of hot mutton chops, I soon forgot the
wearisome nature of our journey, and the dismal look of the town.
"Eat away, my boys," cried Uncle Dick. "Yeat, as they call it here. The
place is all right; everything ready for work, and we'll set to with stout
hearts, and make up for lost time."
"When do we begin, uncle--to-morrow?"
"No, no: not till next Monday morning. To-morrow we'll have a look
over the works, and then we'll idle a bit--have a few runs into the
country round, and see what it's like."
"Black dismal place," I said dolefully.
"Says he's tired out and wants to go to bed," said Uncle Jack, giving his
eye a peculiar cock at his brothers.
"I didn't," I cried.

"Not in words, my fine fellow, but you looked it."
"Then I won't look so again," I cried. "I say, don't talk to me as if I
were a little boy to be sent to bed."
"Well, you're not a man yet, Cob. Is he, boys?"
Uncle Dick was in high spirits, and he took up a candle and held it
close to my cheek.
"What's the matter?" I said. "Is it black? I shouldn't wonder."
"Not a bit, Cob," he said seriously. "You can't even see a bit of the
finest down growing."
"Oh, I say," I cried, "it's too bad! I don't pretend to be a man at sixteen;
but now I've come down here to help you in the new works, you
oughtn't to treat me as if I were a little boy."
"Avast joking!" said Uncle Dick quietly, for the comely landlady came
in to clear away the tea-things, and she had just finished when there
was a double knock at the front door.
We heard it opened, and a deep voice speaking, and directly after the
landlady came in with a card.
"Mr Tomplin, gentlemen," she said. "He's at the door, and I was to say
that if it was inconvenient for you to see him to-night, perhaps you
would call at his office when you were down the town."
"Oh, ask him in, Mrs Stephenson," cried Uncle Dick; and as she left the
room--"it's the solicitor to whom I brought the letter of introduction
from the bank."
It was a short dark man in black coat and waistcoat and
pepper-and-salt trousers who was shown in. He had little sharp eyes
that seemed to glitter. So did his hair, which was of light-grey, and
stood up all over his head as if it was on white fire. He had not a
particle of hair on his face, which looked as if he was a very good

customer to the barber.
He shook hands very heartily with all of us, nodding pleasantly the
while; and when he sat down he took out a brown-and-yellow silk
handkerchief and blew his nose like a horn.
"Welcome to Yorkshire, gentlemen!" he said. "My old friends at the
bank send me a very warm letter of recommendation about you, and I'm
at your service. Professional consultations at the usual fee, six and
eight or thirteen and four, according to length. Friendly
consultations--Thank you, I'm much obliged. This is a friendly
consultation. Now what can I do for you?"
He looked round at us all, and I felt favourably impressed. So did my
uncles, as Uncle Dick answered for all.
"Nothing at present, sir. By and by we shall be glad to come to you for
legal and friendly advice too."
"That's right," said Mr Tomplin. "You've taken the Rivulet Works, I
hear."
"Yes, down there by the stream."
"What are you going to do?--carry on the old forging and grinding?"
"Oh, dear, no!" said Uncle Dick. "We are going in for odds and ends,
sir. To