leader's nose almost touched his.

Some one jumped out from the foremost wagon into the road; a voice cried
aloud, "Ay, ay, divil; all's raight! We've smashed 'em."

And there was a run. The wagons stood still; they were now deserted.

"Joe Scott!" No Joe Scott answered. "Murgatroyd! Pighills! Sykes!" No
reply. Mr. Moore lifted his lantern and looked into the vehicles. There
was neither man nor machinery; they were empty and abandoned.

Now Mr. Moore loved his machinery. He had risked the last of his capital
on the purchase of these frames and shears which to-night had been
expected. Speculations most important to his interests depended on the
results to be wrought by them. Where were they?

The words "we've smashed 'em" rang in his ears. How did the catastrophe
affect him? By the light of the lantern he held were his features
visible, relaxing to a singular smile--the smile the man of determined
spirit wears when he reaches a juncture in his life where this
determined spirit is to feel a demand on its strength, when the strain
is to be made, and the faculty must bear or break. Yet he remained
silent, and even motionless; for at the instant he neither knew what to
say nor what to do. He placed the lantern on the ground, and stood with
his arms folded, gazing down and reflecting.

An impatient trampling of one of the horses made him presently look up.
His eye in the moment caught the gleam of something white attached to a
part of the harness. Examined by the light of the lantern this proved to
be a folded paper--a billet. It bore no address without; within was the
superscription:--

"To the Divil of Hollow's Miln."

We will not copy the rest of the orthography, which was very peculiar,
but translate it into legible English. It ran thus:--

"Your hellish machinery is shivered to smash on Stilbro' Moor, and your
men are lying bound hand and foot in a ditch by the roadside. Take this
as a warning from men that are starving, and have starving wives and
children to go home to when they have done this deed. If you get new
machines, or if you otherwise go on as you have done, you shall hear
from us again. Beware!"

"Hear from you again? Yes, I'll hear from you again, and you shall hear
from me. I'll speak to you directly. On Stilbro' Moor you shall hear
from me in a moment."

Having led the wagons within the gates, he hastened towards the cottage.
Opening the door, he spoke a few words quickly but quietly to two
fe