a
projecting buttress, whom neither Archie nor Timothy perceived. It was
Simon Bond--Stephen's bitterest enemy.

Ever since the day when the lad had refused to answer his rude
questions, Simon had been on the look-out for his revenge. Twice he
had waylaid Stephen, and tried to give him the thrashing he had
promised him.

But once Stephen had eluded him by going through a big shop which had
an opening on the other side; once some one had come up just as Simon
had got his foe into a quiet corner.

It was of no use for him to track Stephen to his home, for he knew how
crowded it was in those narrow streets; and though a "row" would
probably be a matter of daily occurrence, there was every likelihood
that the men who looked on might take the side of their own neighbour
against a stranger like Simon.

"But my time'll come yet," he said to himself, "if I wait long
enough."

He contented himself, while waiting for the longed-for day of
vengeance, with adding what he could to Stephen's load of trouble.

His work was in the same big room, and he took care that Stephen
should have the draughtiest corner of it, and be the last to get into
the office on pay-day. And he managed that if anything did go wrong,
suspicion should fall on Stephen--in which Archie was his unconscious
helper. Then, if Stephen ventured to speak while waiting outside for
admittance in the morning--which he did very seldom--Simon would
repeat his words in a loud, mocking voice, and comment upon them, and
turn them into ridicule, till poor Stephen dreaded the sight of him
more than of all the other men put together.

"What's up now, I wonder," thought Simon, as he watched Timothy come
out and Stephen go in at the little door of the manufactory. "Why,
there's Tim Lingard going off right away. Is he gone for the night? I
should like to know. If he is, now's my time. I don't suppose the
little chap will lock the door, so I'll just slip in while he's going
his rounds, and be ready for him when he comes back--that'll all be as
easy as sneezing. I'll make it pretty hot, though, for Master Stephen
when I've got him."

He went home to his tea; and Stephen, all unconscious of the plots
being laid against him, entered the little room where the night-watch
sat, and got out his meagre supper, which he had had no time yet to
swallow. The room had two doors; one led to the courtyard through
which Stephen had entered, and the other, the upper half of which was
gl