"You will think so some day, my man." "Bud I know who it weer," said Stockton. "Theer he stands; it were Tom Podmore. He weer not sweered in." "Then he did not betray you," said the vicar, as a menacing growl arose; but Tom stood perfectly firm. "No, it weern't Tom Podmore," cried Big Harry, stalking forward, one big shoulder at a time. "If you want to know who did it, here he is--I did; and I'm glad on it. Dal me! I'm glad as th'owd wucks aint down, and I'll faight any two o' you as don't like it; so now then." There was another growl, but no one took up the challenge. "See here, lads," cried Harry. "I went awaya so as to hev now't to do wi' it, and I didn't tell anybody; only telled parson to give Dicky Glaire the word to look out." "And you was sweered in, Harry," cried Stockton. "So I weer," said the big fellow; "and, as I said afore, I'll faight any man as don't like it. Well, I goes on to Sheffle to get wuck, and there I happened o' Daisy Banks; and when the poor little lass got howd o' me, and begged me to tell all about her owd man, why dal me, I weer obliged to tell her how he was a-going to--dal it, parson, don't slap a man o' the mooth that how." "You've said enough, Harry," cried the vicar. "We want to know no more. I answer for you that you did quite right, and some day these men will thank you, as I do now, for saving us all from this horror. Now, my men, you know that Slee and Barker, that stranger, are in the station." "Oh, ay, we know that," said Stockton; "and I vote, lads, we hev 'em out." "No, no; let them get the punishment they deserve," cried the vicar. "Well, lookye here, parson," cried Stockton; "the game's up, I s'pose, and you've got the police outside. I was in it, and I'm not going to turn tail. Here I am." "My man, I will not know your name, nor the name of any man here. I will not recognise anybody; I came as your friend, not as a spy. I came to ask you to break up your wretched bond of union, and to go forth home as honest men. Where a union is made for the fair protection of a workman's rights, I can respect it; but a brotherhood that blasphemes its own name by engaging in what may prove wholesale murder, is a monster that you yourselves must crush. I have no more to say. Go home." "Parson's raight, lads!" said Stockton, throwing off his defiant air. "Let's go. Parson, it was a damned cowardly trick, but Dicky Glaire had made us strange and mad." "It weer owd Simmy Slee as made it wuss, wi' cootting o' them bands," said Big Harry. "We should ha' been at wuck again if it hadn't been for that." "Quick, lads!" cried a man, running in. "Sim Slee and Barker's broke out o' th' owd shop, and the police are coming down here." "Theer, parson," said Stockton, with a bitter smile; "th' game's oop."