The men looked at one another and Peter Askew said, “If Railton doesn’t mind, we’d sooner stop.”

“Stop if you like,” Railton agreed.  “You’ve got me a just reckoning and you’re neebors aw.”

“It’s not necessary,” Hayes objected.  “The business we have to transact is private.”

“They ken it,” Railton replied in a stubborn voice.  “I’ve bid them stop and the hoose is mine until Mr. Osborn turns me oot.”

“Very well.  You know the sum due to the landlord.  Are you ready to pay?”

“I canna pay.  It’s weel you ken.”

“Then, can you give security for the debt?”

“I canna and wadn’t give it if I could.  There’s ways a cliver agent can run up a reckoning, and when you want Mireside I’ll have to gan.”

“Then, I’m afraid we shall be forced to break the lease and take measures to recover the sum due.”

“Hoad on a minute!” said one of the group, who turned to Railton.  “Would you like to stop?”

“I would like; I’ve lived at Mireside sin’ I was born.  There’s another thing:  it’s none too good a time for a sale o’ farming stock, and when I’ve paid Osborn, I’ll need some money to mak’ anither start.  Then may-happen a dry spring wold put me straight.”

“It ought to; you’re not much behind,” Peter agreed.  “Weel, you ken I’m generally willing to back my judgment, and noo it seems there’s others think like me.”

“In a sense, the lease does not run out yet,” Kit interposed.  “It has rather reached the half-term, because by our custom Railton is entitled to take it up again for an equal period if he and the landlord agree about the necessary adjustment.  Our leases really cover a double term.”

Hayes turned to him with an ironical smile.  “Do you know much about tenant law?” he asked.

“No,” said Kit, rather dryly.  “I made some studies when I could get the books, but they didn’t take me far.  In fact, I imagine that in this neighborhood there’s very little law and much precedent, which has generally been interpreted for the landlord’s advantage.  There are old Barony laws and Manor rights, and my notion is that nobody knows exactly how he stands.  But we’ll let this go.  If Railton pays his fine, you will have some trouble to get rid of him.”

Hayes agreed and Railton looked up with a puzzled air.

“But I canna pay,” he said dully.

The farmer who had interrupted Hayes took out a bulky envelope and crossed the floor.

“Well,” he said, “I think you’re wrang.  Your friends have been talking aboot the thing and wadn’t like t’ see you gan.”  He gave Railton the envelope, adding:  “It’s a loan.”

Railton’s hand shook as he took out a bundle of bank-notes.  “You’re good neebors,” he said in a strained voice.  “But I dinna think I ought to tak’ your money.  There’s a risk.”

“Not much risk in backing an honest man,” the other rejoined, and taking the notes from Railton gave them to Hayes.  “Noo, if you’ll count these—­”