"We're winning all along the line," George cried. Th' specials is fleyed on us. They take care to watch an' ward just where they know we're not. Th' soldiers don't like their job. It's poor work for lads o' mettle hunting starving croppers. Th' people are with us. But we must strike a decisive blow that will once and for all show our purpose and our power. Every frame in the West Riding must be broken into matchwood; every master must learn that he has resolute and united men to reckon with. Let us once show our strength, and we will not rest till things are bettered for all of us. But we must strike a blow that will be felt the length and breadth of the land. It is baby work that we have been on to-night. We must go for the leaders of the masters, for those who hearten up such men as S----, of Marsh, the men who have both the brains and the pluck, curse 'em, not for the sheep who follow the bell-wether. "Cartwright, of Rawfolds," cried a Liversedge man. "Horsfall, of Ottiwell's," said a Marsden cropper. And then men laid aside their pipes and drained their pewters. And a man was set at the door to see no strangers entered, and we saw to the fastening of the shutters, and that no clink made a spy-hole into the room. And those who spoke hushed their voice, and those who listened strained an anxious ear. It was no child's play now. "Taylor's have sent out a big order of finishing frames for Cartwright," said one Marsden man. "Aye, and Cartwright swears he'll work them if not another mill owner in England dare," said William Hall, of Parking Hole. "I like his mettle," said George. "That Cartwright is a game cock, and we must cut his comb or he'll crow over th' lot on us. If we can only settle such as him, we'st have no bother wi' th' others. Na, lads, my mind's made up. Yo' all know what this Cartwright is doing. Aw've nowt agen him except th' machines. If we let him put up those frames he's ordered, and work 'em, we might as well chuck up. One encourages t' other, and if one succeed another will, nay must, follow suit." "There's nowt to choose between him an' Horsfall," said the Marsden man. "Aw cannot tell what's come over Horsfall. He allus used to be a decent master till this new craze came up. But naa' he talks o' nowt but machines, machines. An' th' way he raves on about th' Luddites is enough to mak' a worm turn. If he's not lied on he said t' other day at th' market that he'd ha' his own way i' th' mill if he had to ride up to his saddle girths i' Luddite blood." "Well, well," said George with an ugly gleam in his eye; "Horsfall can wait. What do you say, Ben?" "Aye, Horsfall can wait," I said, and would have said more if need were, for I shrunk from having part or parcel in any attack on Ottiwell's. "Well there's an easy way to settle it," said William Hall. "Let's toss up."