An interval of silence followed. A deadlock had been reached. Those present were inclined to nibble, but they all wanted the nickel for themselves. They did not like the idea of taking shares and sharing profits. They wanted to be told the precise locality of the mine, so that they could go and help themselves. Pezzack had nothing more to say. The old farmer had only his former statements about his uncle to repeat; and he did so several times, using the same words. At last Pendoggat got up, began to mumble, and every one leaned forward to listen. Most of them did not like Pendoggat because they were afraid of him; but they believed him to be a man of superior knowledge to themselves, and they were inclined on the whole to follow his leadership. "We all trust the minister," Pendoggat was saying. "He's found nickel, and he thinks there is money to be got out of it. He's right enough. There is nickel. I've found it myself. That sample he had handed round is as good a bit of nickel as ever I saw. But there's not enough of it. We couldn't work it so as to pay expenses. It's on the common too, and we would have to get permission from the Duchy, and pay them a royalty." "Us could get out of that," a voice interrupted. "Them who cracks granite be supposed to pay the Duchy royalties, but none of 'em du." "Mining's different," replied Pendoggat. "The Duchy don't worry to collect their granite royalties. 'Twould cost 'em more trouble than the stuff is worth. There's more money in minerals than in granite. They don't let a mine be started without knowing all about it. Minister has told us what he knows, and we believe him. He won't deceive us. He wouldn't tell a lie to save his life. We are proud of our minister, for he's a good one." "He be," muttered a chorus of approving voices. "Looks like a bishop, sitting up there," exclaimed one of the admirers. "So he du. So he be," cried they all. The meeting was waking up. Eli sat limply, gazing at Pendoggat, very unhappy and white, and looking much more like a large maggot than a bishop. "There's the trouble about the water," Pendoggat went on. "The whole capital would go in keeping that pumped out, and it would beat us in the end. All the money in the world wouldn't keep Tavy Cleave pumped dry. I'm against the scheme, and I've got up to say I won't have anything to do with it. I'm not going to put a penny of my money into any Dartmoor mine, and if I did I should expect to lose it. That's all I've got to say. The minister's not a commoner, and he don't know Dartmoor. He don't know anything about mining either, except what he's picked up from folks. He's a good man, and he wants to help us. But I tell him, and I tell you, there's not enough nickel on the whole of Dartmoor to pay the expense of working it."