Patience Wins Part 36

We stood looking at each other for some time, and then he said in his rough way:

"It aren't no doing o' mine, lad, and I don't like it. It aren't manly.

One o' the mesters did owt to me as I didn't like I'd go up to him and ask him to tek off his coat like a man and feight it out, or else I'd go away; but man can't do as he likes i' Arrowfield. He has to do what trade likes."

"And it was the trade who threw our bands away, and tried to blow us up, and half-poisoned me and Piter."

"Hah!" he said with a sigh. "That's it, lad."

"Ah, well, I didn't expect you'd tell me, Pannell," I said, smiling.

"You see I can't, my lad. Now can I?"

"No; it wouldn't be honourable. But I say, Pannell, I mean to do all I can to find out who plays us these dirty tricks."

The big smith looked about him before speaking again.

"Don't, my lad," he whispered. "Yow might get hurt, and I shouldn't like that i'deed."

"Oh, I won't get hurt!" I said. "Look here, Pannell, do you see this?"

"Ay, lad. Trap for the rats. I've sin scores on em."

"We set them to catch the rats," I said, hesitating a moment or two before making my venture. "I say, Pannell," I said, "we're very good friends you and I."

"Course we are, lad; for a Londoner you're quite a decent chap."

"Thank you," I said, smiling. "Well, on the quiet, I want you to do me a favour."

"Long as it aren't to tell on my mates, lad, I'll do owt for you.

There!"

That _there_ was as emphatic as a blow from his hammer on the anvil.

"I thought you would, Pannell," I said. "Well, look here. My uncles are as good and kind-hearted men as ever lived."

"And as nyste to work for as ever was," said Pannell, giving an emphatic bang on his work as he hammered away.

"Well, I'm very fond of them," I said.

"Nat'rally, lad, nat'rally."

"And as I know they're trying to do their best for everybody who works for them, as well as for themselves, so as to find bread for all--"

I stopped just then, for the big smith's face was very red, and he was making a tremendous clangour with his hammer.

"Well," I said, "it worries me very much to see that every now and then a big rat gets to their sack of wheat and gnaws a hole in it and lets the grain run out."

"Where do they keep their wheat?" said Pannell, leaving off for awhile.

"Here," I said.

"Ah! There's part rats about these here rezzywors," he said, thoughtfully. "Why don't you set that trap?"

"Because it isn't half big enough--not a quarter big enough," I said; "but I wish to catch that rat, and I want you to make me a big trap-like this, only four times as large, and with a very strong spring."

"Eh?"

"I want to set that trap, and I want to catch that, great cowardly rat, and I want you to make me a trap that will hold him."

"Eh?"

"Don't you understand?" I said, looking at him meaningly as he stood wiping the perspiration from his brow with the back of his hand.

"Yow want to set a trap to catch the big rat as comes and makes a hole in the mester's sack."

"Yes," I said. "I want to catch him."

"What! Here about the works?"

"Yes," I said. "Now do you see?"

_Poof_!

Pannell gave vent to a most curious sound that was like nothing so much as one that might have been emitted if his forge bellows had suddenly burst. To give vent to that sound he opened his mouth wide, clapped his hands on his leather ap.r.o.n, and bent nearly double.

"Why, Pannell!" I exclaimed.

_Poof_! He stamped first one leg on the black iron dust and ashes, and then the other, going round his anvil and grumbling and rumbling internally in the most extraordinary manner.

Then he looked me in the face and exploded once more, till his mirth and the absurdity of his antics grew infectious, and I laughed too.

"And you're going to set a big trap to catch that there"--_poof_--"that theer very big rat, eh?"

"Yes," I said, "if I can."

"And you want me," he whispered, with his eyes starting with suppressed mirth, "to make you that theer big trap."

"Yes."

"Then I'll do it," he whispered, becoming preternaturally solemn.

"Stop! 'Tween man an' man you know."

He held out his great black hard hand, which I grasped.

"On my honour, Pannell, I'll never tell a soul that you made the trap, not for ten years, or twenty, if you like."

"That's enough," he said, giving his leg a slap. "Haw, haw, haw, haw, haw! Here, give us the model. When dyer want it, lad?"

"As soon as ever you can get it made, Pannell."