d to pick up something just as we were
walking along the yard. That's all."

"There's some fresh mischief afoot, Cob," cried Uncle Bob, "and--ah,
here it is! Well, my man, what is it?"

This was to Gentles, whose smooth fat face was full of wrinkles, and his
eyes half-closed.

He took off his cap--a soft fur cap, and wrung it gently as if it were
full of water. Then he began shaking it out, and brushing it with his
cuff, and looked from one to the other, giving me a salute by jerking up
one elbow.

"Well, why don't you speak, man; what is it?" cried Uncle Bob. "Is
anything wrong?"

"No, mester, there aren't nought wrong, as you may say, though happen
you may think it is. Wheel-bands hev been touched again."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

UNCLE BOB'S PATIENT.

Uncle Bob gave me a sharp look that seemed to go through me, and then
strode into the workshop, while I followed him trembling with anger and
misery, to think that I should have gone to sleep at such a time and let
the miscreants annoy us again like this.

"Not cut this time," said Uncle Bob to me, as we went from lathe to
lathe, and from to stone. Upstairs and downstairs it was all the same;
every band of leather, gutta-percha, catgut, had been taken away, and,
of course, the whole of this portion of the works would be brought to a
stand.

I felt as if stunned, and as guilty as if I had shared in the plot by
which the bands had been taken away.

The men were standing about stolidly watching us. They did not complain
about their work being at a stand-still, nor seem to mind that, as they
were paid by the amount they did, they would come short at the end of
the week: all they seemed interested in was the way in which we were
going to bear the loss, or act.

"Does not look like a walk for us, Cob," said Uncle Bob. "What a cruel
shame it is!"

"Uncle," I cried passionately, for we were alone now, "I can't tell you
how ashamed I am. It's disgraceful. I'm not fit to be trusted. I can
never forgive myself, but I did try so very very hard."

"Try, my boy!" he said taking my hand; "why, of course, you did. I
haven't blamed you."

"No, but I blame myself," I cried.

"Nonsense, my boy! Let that rest."

"But if I had kept awake I should have detected the scoundrel."

"No, you would not, Cob, because if you had been awake he would not have
come; your being asleep was his opportunity."

"But I ought not, being on sentry, to have gone to sleep."