The next morning the town presented a new aspect. It no longer looked _en fete_, as on the previous evening. On every hand halt-consumed coals and strange smelling steams were being emitted from a hundred factories. The streets were empty save for heavy lorries and tramcars. Presently, at twelve o'clock, the mills would belch forth thousands of pale-faced operatives, who for long hours had been standing at the looms, but who, at present, were immured in those great noisome, prison-like buildings which form the main features of the town. Paul made several visits that morning, and presently found his way to the empty weaving shed of which Preston had spoken the previous evening. After some difficulty he had an interview with its owner. Preston had told him that Fletcher was anxious to let this shed. It had been on his hands for several months, and no one seemed to want it. To his surprise, therefore, Fletcher met him coolly. "Well, they've let you out?" he said to Paul. "Evidently, or I should not be here," laughed Paul. "Well, be careful not to get up to your larks again!" said the other, and his tones were almost surly. Paul took notice of this gibe, but as soon as he thought wise brought the conversation round to the object of his visit. "I don't know that it's to let," replied Fletcher. "No?" queried Paul. "Then I must have been misinformed." "It wur to let," said Fletcher, "and I don't say it isn't now, but I'm noan sure." "Why, George Preston told me yesterday that you had practically given him the refusal of it." "Ay, practically, but that noan settles the business. I've had another offer since then." "May I ask who has made the offer?" asked Paul. "Thou may ask, but I don't say I shall tell. However, 'appen ow of the biggest manufacturers in the town 'll have it." "A big manufacturer wouldn't look at it," said Paul. "It's only fit for a man in a small way of business." Fletcher looked at him and laughed. "Good-morning," he said. "'Appen I can go into it further to-morrow, but not now." And then he turned on his heel and left Paul thinking. Before the day was out Paul heard that young Edward Wilson, the son of the man who had prosecuted him, had hired the shed for a warehouse, although there seemed no reason at all why he should do so.