"_I'm_ not one o' the model soart," he called out. "I've not set up soup kitchens nor given you flannel petticoats. I've looked sharp after you, and I should have been a fool if I hadn't. I've let you alone out of work hours, and I've not grudged you your sprees, when they didn't stand in my way. I've done the square thing by you, and I've done it by myself. Th' places I've built let no water in, and I let 'em to you as easy as I could and make no loss. I didn't build 'em for benevolent purposes, but I've not heard one of you chaps complain of 'em yet. I've given you your dues and stood by you--and I'll do it again, by----" There was a silence--a significant breathless one. "Have I done it," he said, "or haven't I?" Suddenly the silence was broken. "Aye," there was a shout, "aye, lad, yo' ha'." "Then," he shouted, "them as Jem Haworth has stood by, let 'em stand by Jem Haworth!" And he struck his big fist upon his open palm with a fierce blow, and stood before them breathing hard. He had the best metal on his side somehow, and the best metal carried the day. The boldness of his move, the fact that he had not waited, but had taken the lead, were things all for him. Even those who wavered toward the enemy were stirred to something like admiration. "But what about th' Union?" said a timorous voice in the rear. "Theer'll be trouble with th' Unions as sure as we stand out, Mester." Haworth made a movement none of them understood. He put his hand behind him and drew from his hip-pocket an object which caused every man of them to give a little start and gasp. They were used to simple and always convenient modes of defense. The little object he produced would not have startled an American, but it startled a Lancashire, audience. It was of shining steel and rose-wood, and its bright barrels glittered significantly. He held it out and patted it lightly. "That's for the Union, lads," he said. "And more like it." A few of the black sheep moved restlessly and with manifest tremor. This was a new aspect of affairs. One of them suddenly cried out with much feebleness: "Th--three cheers for Haworth." "Let the chaps as are on the other side go to their lot now," said Haworth. But no one moved. "There's some here that'll go when th' time comes," he announced. "Let 'em tell what they've heard. Now lads, the rest on you up with your hands." The whole place was in a tumult. They held up their hands and clenched and shook them and shouted, and here and there swore with fluency and enthusiasm. There were not six among them who were not fired with the general friendly excitement. "To-morrow morning there'll be papers posted up, writ in Jem Haworth's hand and signed with his name," cried Haworth. "Read 'em as you come along, lads, and when you reach here I'll be ready for you." "Is it about th' pistols?" faltered the timorous voice. "Aye," Haworth answered, "about th' pistols. Now go home."