Peter looked surprised, but did not speak, and there was silence for a few moments.  Then one said: 

“I’m with Kit.  We’ll hoad on until Bell comes doon seven-and-six.  If he does, we’ll talk aboot it again.”

After some argument, the rest agreed, and when they went away Peter turned to his son.

“Mayhappen you’ve sent them t’ right road, but I dinna ken!  I’m none fond o’ fratching, unless I’m forced.”

“We are forced,” Kit answered moodily.

Peter gave him a keen glance and then spread out his hands.

“It’s possible.  For aw that, it wadn’t ha’ done much harm to give t’ man his chance o’ makin’ peace.”

Kit did not answer, but went out, and Askew sat by the fire with a thoughtful look.  Something had happened to the lad, and Peter wondered what it was.  He felt vaguely disturbed, but could see no light.

CHAPTER XI

OSBORN’S PRIDE GETS HURT

Soon after the farmers met at Ashness, Bell, feeling sore and resentful, sat one evening in the Tarnside library.  Osborn, after fixing a time for his visit, had kept him waiting twenty minutes, and Bell had come to think himself a man of a little importance.  The spacious library was very cold and the end of a small log smouldered among the ashes in the grate.  Bell knew he had been brought into the library because it was Osborn’s business room; but the latter might have ordered the fire to be made up.

His neglect rankled, although Bell had something else to think about.  He had lowered his price for coal another shilling, without attracting buyers, and now admitted that the dales folks’ resistance was getting dangerous.  To some extent, the Askews were accountable for this, but Osborn got a large share of the profit Bell had hoped to make.  One did not pay a high rent for nothing.  By and by Bell looked at Hayes, who stood by the hearth.

“The next time I come to Tarnside Mr. Osborn will wait for me,” he remarked.

Hayes made a warning gesture, there were steps in the passage, and Osborn came in.  He sat down at the end of the table and looked at his watch.

“I can give you about a quarter of an hour,” he said.  “Perhaps we had better begin.”

The big room was nearly dark, but the men sat in the light a shaded lamp threw across the table.  Osborn looked half bored and half impatient, Hayes was urbanely inscrutable, while Bell’s mean face was marked by greed.

“Mr. Bell finds his stock of coal accumulating faster than he likes,” said Hayes.  “He must pay on delivery, and since his customers have combined against him, feels he’s entitled to some relief.”

“I don’t see how that is my business,” Osborn rejoined.  “Bell might get over the difficulty by lowering his price.”

“I’ve putten it doon,” Bell broke in.  “The price I can sell at is fixed by my rent.”