understand it at first.  The one or two who came talked of bad trade, and when I asked after their pals they shook their heads.  They betted in shillings instead of half-crowns, and I didn’t like the look of their faces when they lost.  I tell you, it got so at last that I used to watch for the horse they’d put their bit on to win, and feel kind o’ sick when it didn’t.  You can imagine I couldn’t stand that sort of thing long.  I chucked it, and I went to look for my pals.  I wanted to find out what had become of them.”

Mannering looked at him curiously.

“You found, I hope,” he said, drily, “that the British workman had discovered a better investment for his shillings and half-crowns than the race-course.”

Mr. Richard Fardell smiled pleasantly, but tolerantly.

“It’s clear,” he said, “that you, meaning no offence, Mr. Mannering, know nothing about the British workman.  Whatever else he may be, he’s a sportsman.  He’ll look after his wife and kids as well as the best of them, but he’ll have his bit of sport so long as he’s got a copper in his pocket.  When he didn’t come I put my kit on one side and went to look for him.  I went, mind you, as his friend, and knowing a bit about him.  And what I found has made a changed man of me.”

Mannering nodded.

“I am afraid things are bad up in the North,” he said.  “You mustn’t think that we people who are responsible for the laws of the country ignore this, Mr. Fardell.  It is a very anxious time indeed with all of us.  Still, I presume you study the monthly trade returns.  Some industries seem prosperous enough.”

“I’m no politician,” Fardell answered, curtly.  “Figures don’t interest me.  They’re just the drugs some of your party use to keep your conscience quiet.  Things I see and know of are what I go by.  And what I’ve seen, and what I know of, are just about enough to tear the heart out of any man who cares a row of pins about his fellows.  Now I’m going to talk plain English to you, Mr. Mannering.  I bought that little article you have in your pocket seriously meaning to knock you on the head with it.  And that may come yet.”

Mannering looked at him in amazement.

“But my dear sir,” he said, “what is your grievance against me?  I have always considered myself a people’s politician.”

“Then the people may very well say ’save me from my friends’,” Fardell answered, grimly.  “Mind, I believe you’re honest, or you’d be lying on your back now with a cracked skull.  But you are using a great influence on the wrong side.  You’re standing between the people and the one reasonable scheme which has been brought forward which has a fair chance of changing their condition.”

Then Mannering began to understand.

“I oppose the scheme you speak of,” he answered, “simply because I don’t believe in it.  Every man has a right to his opinion.  I don’t believe for a moment that it would improve the present condition of things.”