Tom's eyes sparkled with a sudden light, and he leaped to his feet to the imminent peril of his head against the rafters. "The very thing," he cried, "the very, very thing. 'Oh! wise King, oh! prudent King'--stupid that I was never to think of it before, couldn't see wood for trees.--Lucy, you shall be our book-keeper. Let me see--Garside and Pinder, woollen manufacturers Holmfirth. Carried unanimously. Put it. Lucy, put it and hold up both your hands. My word, Ben, but you've a headpiece if you like. We'st nivver mend o' that idea if we talk fro' now till Doomsday. But will th' money run to it?" "Ben 'll ha' considered that," said Hannah. "He's a deep un, is Ben, an' if he wadn't talk so much wod mak' heead way yet; but it's 'im for goin' round an' round a thing an' under it an' ovver it afore he's made his mind up. Yo'n awmost to shak' him to get an opinion aat on him sometimes." "Aw waren't long i' makkin' up mi mind abaat one thing ony road th' time aw clapt mi e'en o' thee, lass," said Ben, with a wink that comprehended both Tom and Lucy. "Aye, an' aw didn't gi' time to unmak' it, noather," chuckled Hannah, and cast a glance at Ben that made her look thirty years younger and set him thinking of the days when an apparently chance shaft from Hannah's eyes set his heart a pit-a-pat. "Aye, lad," said Ben, "there's folk started i' this valley wi' less nor a hundred pun', 'at fairly stinks o' brass naah. It's noan th' brass altogether 'at does th' trick; there's more i' knowin' haa to use it, an' more still in knowin' haa to keep what yo' mak' an' turn it ovver an' ovver like a rolling snowball. There's mony a man can mak' brass but it's stickin' to it bothers 'em." And so it was settled that Tom should bide his time, making haste slowly, as the Roman sage advises, and that, meanwhile, Ben should keep his weather-eye open for room and power.