Chapter 20. A Doubtful Acquaintance

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_ CHAPTER TWENTY. A DOUBTFUL ACQUAINTANCE

Gwyn recognised the voice, and knew what was the matter, and his first aim was to make a rush to protect his dog from the crushing blow which would probably be given him with one of the many weather-worn fragments of granite lying about among the great monoliths. But he was just where he could not make such a rush, for it would have been into a dense bed of gorse as high as himself, and forming a _chevaux de frise_ of millions of sharp thorns.

The next best plan was to shout loudly, "You hurt my dog if you dare--" though the man might dare, and cast the stone all the same.

But Gwyn did neither of these things, for another familiar voice rose from beyond the furze, crying loudly,--

"You let that dog alone! You touch him and I'll set him to worry you. Once he gets his teeth into you, he won't let go. Here, Grip! Come to heel!"

"Well done, Joe!" muttered Gwyn, who felt that his dog was safe; and he ran to the end of the bank of prickly growth, where there was an opening, and suddenly appeared upon the scene.

It was all just as he had pictured; there was Joe Jollivet, with Grip close to his legs, barking angrily and making short rushes, and there, a few yards away, stood the big, swarthy stranger who had been caught at the mine mouth, and whom Gwyn believed to have tampered with the furnace door, now standing with a big stone of eight or ten pounds' weight, ready to hurl at the dog if attacked.

"Here, you put down that stone," cried Gwyn, angrily. "How dare you threaten my dog!"

"Stone aren't yours," said the man, tauntingly. "This ground don't belong to you. Keep your mongrel cur quiet."

"My dog wouldn't interfere with you if you let it alone."

"Oh, it's your dog, is it?" said the man. "Well, take him home and chain him up. I don't want to flatten his head, but I jolly soon will if he comes at me."

"He couldn't hit Grip," said Joe, maliciously, as he bent down to pat and encourage the dog. "Set him at the fellow--he has no business here."

"What!" cried the fellow, who looked a man of three or four-and-thirty, but talked like a boy of their own age. "Much right here as you have. You let me alone, and I'll let you alone. What business have you to set your beastly dog at me?"

"Who set him at you?" cried Joe. "He only barked at you--he saw you were a stranger--and you picked up a stone, and that, of course, made him mad."

"So would you pick up a stone, if a savage dog came at you. Look at him now, showing his sharp teeth. On'y wish I had his head screwed up in a carpenter's bench. I'd jolly soon get the pinchers and nip 'em all out. He wouldn't have no more toothache while I knew him."

"There, you be off," said Gwyn, "while your shoes are good."

"Don't wear shoes, young 'un. Mine's boots."

"You're after no good hanging about here."

"Er--think I want to steal your guv'nor's pears off the wall, now, don't yer?"

"How do you know we've got pears on our wall?"

"Looked over and see," said the man, grinning.

"Yes, that's it; you're a regular spy, looking for what you can steal," cried Joe. "Be off!"

"Sha'n't. Much right here, I tell you, as you have. But I like folks to talk about stealing! Who nipped off with my fishing line and sinker? You give 'em back to me."

"No; they're confiscated, same as poachers' nets," said Gwyn. "Who sent you here?"

"Sent me here? Sent myself."

"What for?"

"Wants a job. I'm mining, and I heared you was going to open the old mine. Think your guv'nors'll take me on?"

"You put down that stone before you ask questions," said Gwyn.

"You shut up your dog's mouth, then. I don't want to kill him, but I aren't going to have him stick his teeth into me."

"The dog won't hurt you if you don't threaten him. Throw away that stone."

"There you are, then; but I warn you, if he comes at me, I'll let him have my boot, and if he does get it, he won't have any more head."

"Quiet, Grip!" said Gwyn, as the man threw away the stone, and the dog whined and said, "Don't talk to me like that; this fellow isn't to be trusted; make me drive him away." At least not in words, for the dog spoke with his eyes, which seemed to suggest that this course should be taken.

"Who are you, and where do you come from?" said Gwyn, looking at the man suspiciously.

"Truro. All sorts o' places wherever there's mines open and--work."

"And you heard that this one was going to be opened?"

"Yes, that's just what I did hear."

"Then why did you come spying about the place?"

"Never came spying about; only wanted to know how deep she was. I don't like mines as is two hundred fathom deep. Too hot enough, and such a long way up and down. Takes all the steam out of you. Will your guv'nors give me a job?"

"Go to the office and ask them; that's the best way," said Gwyn, looking at the man suspiciously, as he took off his cap, and began to smooth it round and round.

"Well, p'r'aps that won't be a bad way," said the fellow. "But you two won't say anything again' me, will you, 'cause of that row we had when you smugged my line and sinker?"

"I don't think I shall say any more than what happened," replied Gwyn.

"'Cause it was all over a row, now, warn't it? Of course, a chap gets his monkey up a bit when it comes to a fight. That's nat'ral, ar'n't it?"

Gwyn nodded, and felt as if he did not like the look of the man at all; but at the same time he was ready to own that there might be a good deal of prejudice in the matter.

"Wouldn't like to go and say a good word for me, would you?" said the man.

"Of course, I should not like to," said Gwyn, laughing. "How can I go and speak for a man whom I only know through our having two rows with him. That isn't natural, is it?"

"No, I s'pose not," said the man, frankly. "Well, I'll go myself. I say, I am a wunner to work."

"You'd better tell Colonel Pendarve so," said Gwyn, smiling.

"Think so? Well, I will, and good luck to me. But, I say, hadn't you two better make your dog friends with me?"

"No," said Gwyn, promptly. "Grip will know fast enough whether he ought to be friends with you or no."

"Would he? Is he clever enough for that?"

"Oh, yes," said Gwyn; "he knows an honest man when he sees him, doesn't he, Joe?"

"To be sure he does."

"Think o' that, now," said the man. "All right, then. Don't you two go again' me. I'll start for the office at once."

"Here, what's your name?"

"Dinass--Thomas Dinass," said the man, with a laugh, "but I'm mostly called Tom. That all?"

"Yes, that's all," said Gwyn, shortly; and the man turned to go, with the result that Grip made a rush after him, and the man faced round and held up his boot.

"Come here, sir! Come back!" shouted Gwyn; and the dog obeyed at once, but muttering protests the while, as if not considering such an interruption justifiable.

Then all three stood watching till the man had disappeared, the dog uttering an angry whine from time to time, as if still dissatisfied.

At last the two boys, who had met now for the first time since the adventure on the ladder, turned to gaze in each other's eyes, and ended in exchanging a short nod.

"Going up?" said Gwyn at last.

"Yes; I came on purpose, and found Grip here."

"So did I come on purpose," said Gwyn. "Wanted a good think. Lead on."

Joe went to the tallest of the old stones, and began to climb--no easy task, but one to which he seemed to be accustomed; and after a little difficulty, he obtained foothold, and then, getting a hand well on either side of one of the weather-worn angles, he drew himself higher and higher, and finally perched himself on the top.

Before he was half up, Gwyn began to follow, without a thought of danger, though he did say, "Hold tight; don't come down on my head."

Up he went skilfully enough, but before he was at the top, Grip uttered a few sharp barks, raised his ears, became excited, and jumped at the monolith, to scramble up a few feet, drop, and, learning no wisdom from failure, scramble up again and again, and fall back.

Then, as he saw his master reach the top, he threw back his head, opened his jaws, and uttered a most doleful, long-drawn howl, as full of misery and disappointment as a dog could give vent to.

"Quiet, will you!" cried Gwyn, and the dog answered with a sharp bark, to which he added another dismal, long-drawn howl.

"Do you hear!" cried Gwyn; "don't make that row. Lie down!"

There was another howl.

"Do you want me to throw stones at you?" cried Gwyn, fiercely.

Doubtless the dog did not, for he had an intense aversion to being pelted; but, as if quite aware of the fact that there were no stones to cast, he threw his head up higher than ever, and put all his force into a dismal howl, that was unutterably mournful and strange.

"You wretch! Be quiet! Lie down!" cried Gwyn; but the more he shouted the louder the dog howled, while he kept on making ineffectual efforts to mount the stone.

"Let him be; never mind. He'll soon get tired. Want to talk."

The boys settled themselves in uncomfortable positions on the narrow top, where the felspar crystals stood out at uncomfortable angles, and those of quartz were sharper still, and prepared for their long confab. As a matter of course, they would have been ten times as comfortable on the short turf just beyond the furze; but then, that would have been quite easy, and there would have been no excitement, or call upon their skill and energy. There was nothing to be gained by climbing up the stone--nothing to see, nothing to find out; but there was the inclination to satisfy that commonplace form of excelsiorism which tempts so many to try and get to the top. So the boys sat there, thoughtfully gazing out to sea, while the dog, after a good many howls, gave it up for a bad job, curled himself into an ottoman, hid his nose under his bushy collie tail, and went to sleep.

Some minutes elapsed before either of the boys spoke, and when one did, it was with his eyes fixed upon the warm, brown sails of a fishing-lugger, miles away.

It was Gwyn who commenced, and just as if they had been conversing on the subject for some time,--

"Major very angry?"

Joe nodded.

"Awfully. Said, knowing what a state of health he was in, it wasn't fair for me to go on trying to break my neck, for I was very useful to him when he had his bad fever fits--that it wasn't pleasant for him to stop at home, expecting to have me brought back in bits."

"He didn't say that, did he?"

"Yes, he did--bits that couldn't be put together again; and that, if this was the result of having you for a companion, I had better give you up."

Gwyn drew a deep breath, and kicked his heels together with a loud clack. Then there was a long pause.

"Well," said Gwyn, at last; "are you going to give me up?"

Joe did not make a direct answer, but proposed a question himself.

"What did the Colonel say?"

"Just about the same as your father did; only he didn't bring in about the fever, nor he didn't say anything about my being brought home in bits. Said that I was a great nuisance, and he wondered how it was that I could not amuse myself like other boys did."

"So we do," said Joe, sharply. "I never knew of a boy yet who didn't get into a scrape sometimes."

Gwyn grunted, and frowned more deeply.

"Said it was disgraceful for me to run risks, and cause my mother no end of anxiety, and--"

"Well, go on: what a time you are!" cried Joe, for Gwyn suddenly paused. "What else did he say?"

"Oh, something you wouldn't like to hear."

"Yes, I should. Tell me what it was."

Gwyn took out his knife, and began to pick with the point at a large crystal of pinkish felspar, which stood partly out of the huge block of granite.

"I say, go on. What an aggravating chap you are!"

Gwyn went on picking.

"I say, do you want me to shove you off the top here?"

"No; and you couldn't, if I did."

"Oh, couldn't I?--you'd see. But I say, go on, Ydoll; tell us all about it. I did tell you what my father said."

"Said he supposed it was from associating with such a boy as you; for he was sure that I was too well-meaning a lad to do such things without being prompted."

"Oh, my! What a shame!" cried Joe. "It was too bad."

"Well, I didn't want to tell you, only you bothered me till I did speak."

"Of course. Isn't it better to know than have any one thinking such things of you without knowing. But I say, though, it is too bad; I couldn't help turning like I did. It came on all at once, and I couldn't stir."

"He didn't mean about that so much. He bullied me for not taking care of you, and stopping you from going up the ladder."

"Did he? Why, you couldn't help it."

"He talked as if he supposed I could, and said if we went out again together, I had better take Grip's collar and chain, put the collar round your neck, and lead you."

"Oh I say! Just as if I was a monkey."

"No; father meant a dog, or a puppy." Joe gave himself a sudden twist round to face his companion, flushing with anger the while, and as the space on the top of the stone was very small, he nearly slipped off, and had to make a snatch at Gwyn to save himself from an ugly fall.

"There!" cried Gwyn, "you're at it again. You've made up your mind to break your neck, or something else."

"It was all your fault," cried Joe, "saying things like that. I don't believe your father said anything of the kind. It was just to annoy me."

"What, do you suppose I wanted to go home with fresh trouble to talk about?"

"No, but it's your nasty, bantering, chaffing way. Colonel Pendarve wouldn't have spoken about me like that."

Gwyn laughed.

"I suppose he didn't say I had better give you up as a companion--"

"Did he?"

"If I was always getting into some scrape or another."

"No; but I say, Ydoll, did he?"

"Something of the kind. He said it was getting time for me to be thinking of something else beside tops and marbles."

"Well, so we do. Whoever thinks about tops and marbles now? Why, I haven't touched such a thing for two years."

"So I suppose you and I will have to part," continued Gwyn.

Joe glanced at him sidewise.

"It's no use for us to be companions if it means always getting into scapes at home."

Joe began to whistle. His face became perfectly smooth, and he watched his companion, as he picked away at the crystal, while Gwyn looked puzzled.

"I say, you'll break the point of your knife directly," said Joe.

"Well, suppose I do?"

"Be a pity. It's a good knife."

"Well, you won't see it when it's broken if we're going to part."

"Of course not; and you could get to the big grindstone they've set up under that shed for the men to grind their picks. Soon give it a fresh point. I say, how jolly that is--only to put on the band over the wheel shaft from the engine, and the stone goes spinning round! I tried it one day on my knife. It was splendid."

"You seem precious glad that we've got to part," said Gwyn.

"Not a bit of it. It's all gammon."

"Eh? What is?"

"Talking about separating. It doesn't mean anything. I know better than that. Come, let's talk sense."

"That's what I have been doing," said Gwyn, stiffly.

"Not you; been bantering all the time. They didn't mean it, and you didn't mean it. We're to be partners over the mine some of these days, Ydoll, when we grow up, and they're tired of it. I say, though, I don't think I shall like having that Tom Dinass here."

"No," said Gwyn, thoughtfully. "He looks as if he could bite. Think what he said about getting work was all true?"

"I suppose so. Seems reasonable. I don't like to disbelieve people when they speak out plainly to you."

"No," said Gwyn, thoughtfully. "If they've told you a crammer at some time, it makes all the difference, and you don't feel disposed to believe them again. Perhaps it's all right, and when he's taken on, he may turn out a very good sort of fellow."

"Yes; we shall have to chance it. I say, though, Ydoll, we must be more careful for the future about not getting into scrapes together."

"Won't matter if we're not to be companions any more. We can't get into any, can we?"

"Gammon! They didn't mean it, I tell you. We've only got to mind."

"And we begin by getting up here, and running the risk of breaking our legs or wings."

"Well, it was stupid, certainly," said Joe, thoughtfully. "But then, you see, we were so used to climbing up it that it came quite natural."

"Father says one has got to think about being a man now, and setting to work to understand the mining."

"Yes," said Joe, with a sigh; "that's what my father said. Seems rather hard to have to give up all our old games and excursions."

"Then don't let's give them up," said Gwyn, quickly. "They don't want us to, I know--only to work hard sometimes. There, let's get down and go and see how they're getting on at the mine."

"Shall we?" said Joe, doubtingly.

"Yes. Why not? We needn't do anything risky. I haven't been there since the day the pump was started. Have you?"

"No; haven't been near it."

"Then come on!"

Gwyn set the example of descending by lowering his legs over the side, gripping the angle with his knees, and let himself down cleverly, Joe following directly after; while Grip, who had uncurled himself, bounded away before them full of excitement.

A week had resulted in a good deal of work being done by the many men employed; the roughly-made office had been advanced sufficiently for the two old officers to take possession, and spend a good deal of time in consultation with Hardock, who was at work from daylight to dusk, superintending, and was evidently most eager for the success of the mine. The tall granite shaft was smoking away, and the puffs of steam and the whirring, buzzing noises told that the engine was fully at work, while a dull heavy _clank, clank_, came to the boys from the mouth of the shaft.

The first person almost that they set eyes upon was Hardock, who came bustling out of the building over the mouth of the shaft, and stopped short to stare. Then, giving his leg a heavy slap, his face expanded into a grin of welcome.

"There you are, then, both of you at last. Why, where have you been all this time?"

"Oh, busy at home," said Gwyn, evasively.

"Come to knock up an accident of some kind!" said the man, with the grin on his face expanding.

"No, I haven't," said Gwyn, shortly.

"You, then?" cried Hardock, turning to Joe, who coloured like a girl.

"Ah, well, we won't quarrel now you have come, my lads: but the Colonel made my ears sing a bit the other day for not looking more sharply after you both. Well, aren't you going to ask how the mine is?"

"Yes," said Gwyn, glad to change the subject. "Got all the water out?"

"Nay, my lad, nor nothing like all."

"Then you never will," said Joe. "Depend upon it, there's a way in somewhere from the sea, and that's why the old place was forsaken."

"Sounds reasonable," said Hardock, "'specially as the bits of ore we've come across are so rich."

"Yes, that's it," said Gwyn. "What a pity, though. How far have you got down?"

"Oh, a long way, my lad, and laid open the mouths of two galleries. Wonderful sight of water we've pumped out. Don't seem to get much farther now."

"No, and you never will," said Joe again, excitedly. "I'm sorry, though. Father will be so disappointed."

"What makes you say that there's a way in from the sea?" said Hardock, quietly.

"Because the shaft's so near. It's a very bad job, though."

"But look ye here," said Hardock, laying his hand on Gwyn's shoulder, "as you have come, tell me this: how should you try to find out whether it was sea-water we were pumping out?"

"Why, by tasting it, of course," said Gwyn. "It would be quite salt."

"Of course!" said Hardock, with a chuckle, "that's what I did do."

"And was it salt?" asked Joe.

"No, it warn't. It was fresh, all fresh; only it warn't good enough to make tea."

"Why?" asked Gwyn.

"'Cause you could taste the copper in it quite strong. We shall get the water out, my lads, in time; but it's a big mine, and goodness knows how far the galleries run. Strikes me that your guv'nors are going to be rich men and--Hullo! What's he been doing there?"

The boys turned, on seeing the direction of the mine captain's gaze, and they saw Tom Dinass's back, as he stood, cap in hand, talking to someone inside the office door--someone proving to be the Colonel.

"Been to ask to be taken on to work at the mine," said Gwyn.

"But that won't do, my lads," cried Hardock, excitedly. "We want to be all friends here, and he belongs to the enemy. They can't take him on! It would mean trouble, as sure as you're both there. Oh, they wouldn't engage he."

Hardock said no more, for Dinass had seen them as he turned from the office door, and came toward them at once.

"Are you?" he said to Hardock, without the 'How'; and the captain nodded in a sulky way.

"What do you want here?" he said.

"Just whatever you like, captain. I'm an old hand, and ready for anything. The guv'nors have took me on, and I'm come to work." _

Read next: Chapter 21. Sam Hardock Disapproves

Read previous: Chapter 19. A Brutal Threat

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