"That's true," said Ambrose, "and he might make it the worse for
thee."

"I would I were as big as he," sighed Stephen, "I would soon show
him which was the better man."

Perhaps the grinding match had not been as unobserved as Stephen
fancied, for on returning to work, Smallbones, who presided over all
the rougher parts of the business, claimed them both. He set
Stephen to stand by him, sort out and hand him all the rivets needed
for a suit of proof armour that hung on a frame, while he required
Giles to straighten bars of iron heated to a white heat. Ere long
Giles called out for Stephen to change places, to which Smallbones
coolly replied, "Turnabout is the rule here, master."

"Even so," replied Giles, "and I have been at work like this long
enough, ay, and too long!"

"Thy turn was a matter of three hours this morning," replied Kit--
not coolly, for nobody was cool in his den, but with a brevity which
provoked a laugh.

"I shall see what my cousin the master saith!" cried Giles in great
wrath.

"Ay, that thou wilt," returned Kit, "if thou dost loiter over thy
business, and hast not those bars ready when called for."

"He never meant me to be put on work like this, with a hammer that
breaks mine arm."