and finally up into Mr. Blackett's
face.

"So this is the kind of thing your Tory and your Jacobite is capable
of!" he remarked with stinging scorn to his richer rival.

"Don't you think, Mr. Fairburn," answered the Squire with dignified
calmness, restraining himself marvellously well, "don't you think that
instead of vilifying a cause as far above your comprehension as the
majority of its advocates are above you in breeding, in education, in
station, it would be more sensible to give me your help in attending
to these poor misguided fellows lying wounded on all sides?"

Fairburn winced; his rival had certainly the advantage in the
controversy, and none knew it better than the two boys. George did not
fail to observe the little flush of satisfaction that for an instant
lit up his antagonist's countenance, and, like his father, he too
winced.

However, not another needless word was said, while the two men and
their sons, with the help of some of the Fairburn colliers who were
still on the spot, gave attention to the wounded and extinguished the
burning rubbish. Then the Blacketts, father and son, raising their
hats to the Fairburns, took their departure.

It may well be supposed that this series of unhappy incidents did not
tend to narrow the breach between the two colliery owners and their
people. Fairburn, unlike his old self, was greatly incensed, and
talked much of prosecutions and so forth. But nothing came of it, the
man's sound native sense presently leading him to adopt George's
opinion. Said the boy, "Where would be the good, father? Their side
got most of the broken heads anyhow, and that's enough for us." It was
a youngster's view of the case, but it had its merits.

So Fairburn grumbled and rebuilt his few wrecked sheds, his grumblings
dying out as the work proceeded. George's own thoughts were bitter
enough, however, so far as Matthew Blackett was concerned. He could
not get it out of his head that the young squire, as the folks around
styled Matthew, was at the bottom of the riot and indeed secretly its
ringleader.

A month or two passed away, and spring came. One day the elder
Fairburn, on his return from London in his collier, made a great
announcement.

"I've got you a grand place, my lad," he said. "It is in the office of
Mr. Allan, one of the finest shipping-merchants in London. 'Tis a very
great favour, and will be the making of you, if you prove to be the
lad I take you to be. You are now