“He’s a black-hearted ’un,” began the old man again excitedly, but Maniwel interposed. “He’s no friend o’ mine, right enough, Ambrose; but i’ this country we reckon a man innocent while he’s proved guilty, and it’s no blame to this Inman ’at he does his best for his own master. And seeing ’at Jagger and me know ’at we have t’ good will of all our neighbours we don’t ruffle our feathers over their goings-on same as a hen when it sees a hawk. Right enough, they’ve tried to rut t’ road a bit, but they can’t block it, so you’ve no ’casion to worry about us.” “It was Inman ’at put Baldwin up to t’ trick of holding t’ whip over Joe Gardiner,” said one of the younger men. “Joe told me himself ’at Inman had done it, and threatened him ’at if he carried timber for you they’d start a dray o’ their own.” “All right, my lad,” replied Maniwel, who knew better than any present what ingenious plans had been prepared and executed to hamper his business; how not only the carrier had been suborned to delay the carriage of his goods, but the timber-merchants themselves had been warned of the risk they were running in affording him supplies. These, and a dozen similar annoyances he and his son had suffered in silence, and had succeeded in countering with more or less difficulty. “I don’t doubt but what you’re right, and no doubt he’d ha’ liked me and Jagger to pull a face over t’ job. But I’m a pig-headed chap myself, and bad to move when I get set; and it’s a theory o’ mine ’at a man who goes t’ straight road’ll find fewer pits to fall into than them ’at goes crook’d. And that being so I’ve never been one to wet my handkercher and try to make t’ ship move wi’ groaning into t’ sails; but just keep jogging on wi’ a good heart, and when one stick fails me, find another.” A movement of pots and feet indicated the applause of Maniwel’s audience, for though there was not a man among them who understood and shared his philosophy, his uprightness and geniality had made most men his well-wishers. “And how be ye getting on, Maniwel, if it’s a fair question?” asked Swithin. “If nobbut them got on ’at deserved it you’d none be long on t’ road; but it’s a trew word ’at I’ve seen the wicked i’ great prosperity, and there’s some we could name ’at brass fair oozes out on.” “Aye, reyt enough,” broke in the thin eager voice of old Ambrose; “but there’s a verse I made when I wor a young man ’at puts it in a nutshell. When a man’s in a gifted mood he sees things as clear as Cove watter, and two o’ them lines comes back to me at this minute: ‘Too mich o’ owt Is good for nowt’; and it’ll ’appen turn out ’at Baldwin’ll go as dry as a gill i’ summer time.” “It’ll none be James Inman’s fault if he isn’t drained,” said one of the younger men.