Kit knew this was true on the Tarnside estate.  Dykes that had kept the floods off the meadows were falling down, drains were choked, and land that had grown good crops was going sour.  The wise use of capital would make a wholesome change, but Kit did not altogether like centralized control.  Although it was economical, the landlord got the main advantage, and there was much a farmer could do, in cooperation with his neighbors, to help himself, if his lease was long enough.  Then, joint action was once common in the dale.  Men pooled their labor and implements at hay time and harvest, and combined for their mutual benefit in other ways.  Now it looked as if they might combine again.

“Are they grumbling much at Allerby about burning peat?” he asked.

“T’ women grumble,” Tom said dryly.  “But they willunt stop, for aw the dirt peat maks an’ they canna get ovens hot.  I reckon Bell has mair coal coming in than he can get shut of.  When I was at station last t’ yards was nearly full.”

“I rather think Bell has been too greedy.  He must pay for the coal as it arrives and his money is probably getting short; the traction engine and trailer cost a good sum, and he has spent something on the lime-kilns.  In fact, if we hold on, he’s bound to give way.”

“Then we’ll brek him.  Our folks are slow to fratch, but they’re not quick at letting go,” said Tom, who paused and added:  “I wunner where Bell got his money; he had none when he took a job at mill in oad Osborn’s time.”

This started Kit on another line of thought.  Bell had, no doubt, saved something, for he was parsimonious, and was too keen a business man to leave his money in the bank.  All he made by one speculation was sunk in another; but, after allowing for this, it was hard to see where he got the capital for his numerous ventures.  Kit wondered whether Hayes helped; if he did, it was not from friendship.  The agent was clever and might be playing a cunning game, in which he used both Osborn and Bell.  In fact, Kit thought if he were Osborn he would watch Hayes.  This, however, was not his business, and getting up he went to a hole in the wall.

It was snowing very hard; he could see nothing but a haze of tossing flakes, and the wind filled the valley with its roar.  He could hardly hear the beck a few yards off.

“The drifts will be getting deep, but we can’t start yet,” he said.  “If we miss the track at the top, there’s nothing to stop us falling over the Ling Crag.”

Tom agreed, and Kit shivered when he sat down again.  He was cold and tired, and the worst part of the journey must yet be made.  Looking at his watch he resigned himself to wait, and leaned back with eyes closed against the wall while a wet dog crouched at his feet.  An hour or two passed and then Tom got up.

“Snow’s takin’ off,” he said.  “We must try it.”