There was an unaccustomed note of gravity in Maniwel’s voice and a pained look in his eyes, which Jagger observed with surprise and uneasiness, but he made no remark and seated himself on a trestle where he could look into his father’s face. Maniwel had hoisted himself on to the bench, and his hand played among the loose shavings for a while before he lifted his head and spoke. “You know what your grannie says about t’ Briggses?—a black, bad lot, cursed wi’ meanness and low, underhanded ways. It was so wi’ Baldwin’s father and his father before him. There wasn’t a fam’ly on t’ moor ’at had a worse name than what they had, and it was t’ lad’s misfortun’ mind you, not his fault, to be born into such a lot. “Him an’ me’s of an age. We picked up a bit o’ schooling together and we went marlocking together. I liked him as well as I liked Old Nick, but his folks were our nearest neighbours, and there wasn’t so many lads to laik wi’ up on t’ moor so we were forced, as you may say, to be mates. We fell out many a time i’ t’ week, and fell in again. He took a delight i’ torturing birds and animals, and I’ve thrashed him many a dozen times for’t. He was awlus a coward and a sneak, and ’ud scream same as a rabbit wi’ a weasel on its back t’ minute he was touched. He was a dull lad at his books, barring ’at he was quick at figures same as all his lot; but he was a rare hand at a bargain, and beat his dad at being nippy—” A humorous recollection brought a twinkle into Maniwel’s eyes, and he went on— “We were biggish lads when I got stuck i’ t’ bog one day; and a rare mess I was in I can tell you. It wasn’t oft ’at I was flayed; but t’ sweat poured out o’ me that time, and t’ harder I struggled to get loose t’ deeper I sunk. You may bet I hollered for Baldwin, and when he came up he stood on t’ edge and says—‘Now, tha’s made a mullock on it! What is it worth to help tha out? Is it worth thi new knife?’ He got t’ knife, but I leathered him his jacket while he roared for mercy when I’d getten my strength back.” Jagger’s face was hard and his father laughed. “I could tell you more tales o’ t’ same sort, but that’ll do for a sample. When t’ time come for us to leave school we were both ’prenticed at t’ same time to Tom Clegg, and we worked side by side for many a year as you know. Tom was a queer ’un, wi’ a heap o’ funny notions in his noddle, but he kept a firm grip on t’ shop as long as he’d his health, and Baldwin and me were his main hands. He liked me t’ best o’ t’ two, I know; but he saw how keen Baldwin was, and he thought he got more work out o’ t’ men than what I did. Happen he did, for he was awlus a driver, and as long as he could squeeze a bit more brass out o’ Tom for his-self he was ready enough to squeeze a bit more work out o’ t’ men.