HELBECK OF BANNISDALE


CHAPTER II.

"Look out there! For God's sake, go to your places!"

The cry of the foreman reached the ears of the clinging women. They fell
apart--each peering into the crowd and the tumult.

Mounted on a block of wood about a dozen yards from them--waving his arm
and shouting to the stream of panic-stricken workmen--they saw the man
who had been their guide through the works. Four white-hot ingots, just
uncovered, blazed deserted on their truck close to him, and a multitude
of men and boys were pushing past them, tumbling over each other in their
eagerness to reach the neighbourhood of the furnace. The space between
the ingots and some machinery near them was perilously narrow. At any
moment, those rushing past might have been pushed against the
death-bearing truck. Ah! another cry. A man's coat-sleeve has caught
fire. He is pulled back--another coat is flung about him--the line of
white faces turns towards him an instant--wavers--then the crowd flows on
as before.

Another man in authority comes up also shouting. The man on the block
dismounts, and the two hold rapid colloquy. "Have they sent for Mr.
Martin?" "Aye." "Where's Mr. Barlow?" "He's no good!" "Have they stopped
the mills?" "Aye--there's not a man'll touch a thing--you'd think they'd
gone clean out of their minds. There'll be accidents all over the place