I expect I'll have to burn down the cottage when he has
done with it; his son is certainly not going to stop there afterwards.
I don't know if a rich man is justified in loafing or not. We'll leave
that to the economists, but I've frankly no use for the fellow who
wants to loaf at other folk's expense. However, I'll fix the powder
and we'll pull out. I don't like the job."

Carrie nodded. "You are a builder, Jim, but before one builds one must
clear the ground. Things must be pulled down."

"You're a staunch friend," said Jim. "You always understand and
generally approve."

"Perhaps it's because we often agree; but if I were really staunch, I'd
tell you when I thought you wrong. This needs some pluck."

"I'd weigh what you told me."

Carrie was silent for a moment, thinking about Evelyn. The girl had,
so to speak, dazzled Jim. Carrie did not approve, but could not meddle.

"I wonder!" she remarked. "Anyhow you must hustle. It's getting dark."

After a few minutes Jim lighted the fuse and they went out and stood
some distance off. The light had nearly gone, and the dabbin loomed
dark and desolate against a belt of tossing reeds. Jim thought an
indistinct figure stole through the gloom of the hedge, and he shouted
a warning.

The figure vanished. There was a flash behind the broken window and
the shock of an explosion. For a moment the hovel was filled with
light; then it tottered and a cloud of smoke rolled about the falling
walls. Blocks of hard clay splashed in the creek and fell about the
marsh. The smoke cleared and Carrie saw the dabbin had gone. A pile
of rubbish, round which thin vapor drifted, marked the spot it had
occupied. A man stood on the end of the ridge of high ground, his bent
figure outlined against the sky, holding up his arms as if in protest.
Then he vanished, and Jim and the others started silently for Langrigg.

CHAPTER VI

THE THORN HEDGE

Mist drifted about the hollows and the new moon shone between the
motionless light clouds. The air was damp and Jim buttoned his
driving-coat as he talked to Bernard on the steps at Dryholm. His
small car stood near the arch, with its lights glistening on the dewy
lawn.

"Your lamps are dim," said Bernard. "If you will wait a minute, I'll
send them to the garage."

Jim said he knew the road and the lamps would burn until he got home;
and Bernard resumed: "I expect you know that what you are doing at the
marsh won't ma