They'd come and mob me to stand 'em a drink when the
wrong horse won, and I can tell you I never refused. They were always
good-tempered, real sports to the backbone, and I tell you I was fond of
'em. And then they left off coming. I couldn't understand it at first.
The one or two who came talked of bad trade, and when I asked after their
pals they shook their heads. They betted in shillings instead of
half-crowns, and I didn't like the look of their faces when they lost.
I tell you, it got so at last that I used to watch for the horse they'd
put their bit on to win, and feel kind o' sick when it didn't. You can
imagine I couldn't stand that sort of thing long. I chucked it, and I
went to look for my pals. I wanted to find out what had become of them."

Mannering looked at him curiously.

"You found, I hope," he said, drily, "that the British workman had
discovered a better investment for his shillings and half-crowns than the
race-course."

Mr. Richard Fardell smiled pleasantly, but tolerantly.

"It's clear," he said, "that you, meaning no offence, Mr. Mannering, know
nothing about the British workman. Whatever else he may be, he's a
sportsman. He'll look after his wife and kids as well as the best of
them, but he'll have his bit of sport so long as he's got a copper in his
pocket. When he didn't come I put my kit on one side and went to look for
him. I went, mind you, as his friend, and knowing a bit about him. And
what I found has made a changed man of me."

Mannering nodded.

"I am afraid things are bad up in the North," he said. "You mustn't think
that we people who are responsible for the laws of the country ignore
this, Mr. Fardell. It is a very anxious time indeed with all of us.
Still, I presume you study the monthly trade returns. Some industries
seem prosperous enough."

"I'm no politician," Fardell answered, curtly. "Figures don't interest
me. They're just the drugs some of your party use to keep your conscience
quiet. Things I see and know of are what I go by. And what I've seen, and
what I know of, are just about enough to tear the heart out of any man
who cares a row of pins about his fellows. Now I'm going to talk plain
English to you, Mr. Mannering. I bought that little article you have in
your pocket seriously meaning to knock you on the head with it. And that
may come yet."

Mannering looked at him in amazement.

"But my dear sir," he said, "what is your grievance against me? I have
always