left when the flood breaks through, and I imagine you could
be made responsible for other damage."

Osborn hesitated and Kit, seeing his frown, began to wonder whether he
would send him away. Then he resumed: "Who engaged these men?"

"I don't know that they are engaged. Anyhow, if there's a difficulty
about their getting paid, I'm accountable."

"Bring them to Tarnside when you have finished," Osborn answered
and went off.

Kit resumed his work with savage energy. He thought Osborn did not
deserve to be helped, but this did not matter much. Others would suffer
unless he finished the job he had undertaken and it almost looked as if
the flood would beat him. The trench from which they dug the soil they
needed filled with water, the spades got slippery with rain and mud,
and the horses sank in the trampled slough. Kit, however, had made his
plans while he looked for help and had forgotten nothing that he might
want. Hammers, drills, and a can of powder had been brought, and now
and then a dull report rolled across the dale and heavy stones crashed
in the quarry.

When he had stone enough he and one or two others stood on the front of
the bank with the water washing round their legs while they built up the
ragged blocks. The pieces were hard to fit and sometimes the rude wall
broke when the men on top threw down the backing of soil. Kit tore his
hand on a sharp corner, but persisted while the blood ran down his
fingers and his wet clothes stuck to his skin. The others supported him
well and he only stopped for breath and to wipe from his eyes the water
that trickled off his soaked hat. The loaded cart, ploughing through the
mire, met the other going back; the men at the quarry kept him supplied,
and when he had made a foundation the bank began to rise. For all that,
the beck rose almost as fast, and at noon they had not gained much on the
flood. Kit was doubtful, but on the whole thought it prudent to let the
men stop. They had worked hard and could not keep it up without a rest.

When they collected with their dinner cans under a dripping hedge, one
remarked: "Mayhappen we'd better wait for Osborn to send cold meat and
ale. I'll mak' a start with bread and cheese."

The others grinned, but Kit got up as he heard a rattle of wheels. "Don't
begin just yet. Two of you go to the gate."

The men came back with a big jar and a basket, and the others gathered
round when Kit took off the clean, wet cloth.

"Yon lunch n