“You miserable, paltry little cur,” Frank said, contemptuously, “I should despise myself if I were to touch you. Lads, come here!” he shouted in a loud voice; and the men, many of whom had looked curiously on during the evidently warm colloquy between the man they looked upon as their master and the contractor, drew round. “Look here, my lads,” Frank said, “you see this miserable, little undersized cur. He is my cousin; you would hardly think it, but it’s a fact. He has cheated and deceived, and insulted me, time after time, lads. Thank God, I am able at last to leave him; and I want you all to hear me tell him, that he is a loathsome little blackguard. I don’t thrash him now as my fingers itch to do, because he would have the law upon me, and I have other things to see to; but I warn him solemnly, if ever I get the chance, I will thrash him to within the last inch of his life. And now, lads, good-bye. We have got on, I hope, well together; I have liked you, and I hope you have liked me. I am sorry to leave you all, but I can’t stand this any longer. I wish you all well, lads, and I never expect to get a better lot of men under me. Good-bye, lads, I leave at once.” Amidst a chorus of “Good-bye, your honour,” and many a hearty shake of a rough hand, Frank moved out of the crowd of men who surrounded him, and strode homewards. Fred Bingham had stood without saying a word while this scene was going on, and without one of the men paying the slightest attention to him. The men, after a few words to each other, separated to finish their dinners. Fred Bingham stood by the side of the cutting and looked down. Presently he saw one or two of the men put on their jackets, and the following colloquy ensued, evidently intended for his ears:— “What are you up to, Bill?” “I’ve jacked up,” the man said; “I’m off to the office, Bob, to get what’s owing to me. After working for a real gentleman, I ain’t going to work for such a —— as that thing on the top there.” “Ay, ay, Bill, I expect most of us are of one mind there; wait a minute, and I am with you.” “Ay, ay,” said a chorus of men round; and in little groups they put on their coats, and went off towards the town, until not a single being was left, and the great cutting, which half an hour before had been so full of life, stood idle and deserted, with the picks, and shovels, and tools strewn idly about, and the teams munching their oats without a driver. For a long time Fred Bingham stood immoveable; then, with a deep curse, he turned away. “I’ll be even with you yet, Maynard; this is one for you, but I’ve had the best of it yet.” The news rapidly spread over the works that Mr. Maynard had left; and the next morning, out of the thousand men previously at work, not twenty answered to their names.