“Nay, nay, Nancy, that ’ud never do! He’s the dad of all for cunning and mischief, and if he finds you at that game he’ll make you smart for it. It’s no woman’s work, this. Jack Pearce has promised to share wi’ me, so it’ll not come that hard on either of us to lose a night’s sleep now and then. Leave it to us, and get your rest. I’m sorry he’s who he is, Nancy; but I won’t have you dragged into it.” “Listen, Jagger!” said Nancy earnestly. “He’s got Stalker on his side and they’ve always their heads together. Stalker’s soft as putty and James keeps him oiled and shapes him as he likes. He’s made him believe you’re a wrong un—that much I found out, for I’ve listened: it’s a nasty, low-down trick, but I did it, and I’ll do it again. I couldn’t hear much, for James talks low; but I got enough to know that Stalker is keeping his eye on you and what can you do when you’re handicapped like that?” Something like a smile came into Jagger’s eyes, though the face that was upturned to his was white and anxious. “Twelve months since, Nancy, I should have had t’ blue devils with all this: I should have laid down and let trouble roll over me; but now I’m hanged if I don’t find a pleasure in it. It’s same as when you hold t’ axe to t’ grunston’—rough treatment, and brings t’ fire out of you at t’ time; but brightens you up and sharpens you wonderful. There’s a vast difference between father and me—for he’s _over_ soft, and ’ud give his other hand to save Inman’s soul, where I’d lend him a rope to hang himself with;—but he’s smittled me i’ one or two ways, and I’m sticking to t’ Straight Road; for whether there’s ought watches over me or no I’m certain sure there’s something watches over him and we shall come out on top.” Nancy had glanced round the moor apprehensively more than once during this long declaration; but finding nothing to arouse her fears was not unwilling to prolong the conversation. “It’s made a man of you, Jagger,” she said. “It’s naught no more than a game with you, same as your boxing. James may fell you once or twice or a dozen times, but you’re always looking forward to t’ time when it’ll be your turn, and he’ll be counted out. _I_ know you; and I’m glad to see it in a way; though it’s a poor thought that if I hadn’t married James maybe you’d never have made much out.” She ended so wearily that Jagger’s face saddened, and his voice lost its note of defiance and became troubled like her own. “It won’t bide thinking about, Nancy; better leave it. Maybe I _do_ make a game of it; but it was either that or going to t’ dogs—”