when I was supposed to be home from the mill in the evenings. I wasnât going to have much of a chance to wait around after the mill closed and spy on Mr. Hoggart.
Where was he hiding the wool? How did he carry it out of the mill without being seen? When did he do it? Then I remembered something that Tom Thrush had said, about Mr. Hoggart not going to church on Sunday with the boys. What was that all about? I bided my time, and a couple of days later, just after the noon bell rang and Tom was due to come along with our dinnertime tea, I slipped out of the slubbing room, down the stairs, and met Tom just as he was about to come up.
âTom, what was that you said about Mr. Hoggart ducking out of church every Sunday?â
âOh, he ducks out all right, regular as clockwork. He sees the boys in, and stands in the back until everybodyâs settled down. Then he slips out and donât turn up again until service is near finished.â
I dropped my voice down a little. âTom, I think Iâve got a way to get Mr. Hoggart.â
He squinted his eyes at me. âIâm going to kill him when I get the chance.â
âYou donât have to do that,â I said. âHeâs stealing wool out of the mill. If we catch him at it, itâll go hard on him.â
He stared at me. âHow do you know that?â
âI know. He comes over here on Sunday when the boys are in church and steals it.â
âYou sure?â
âSure as I can be. We have to catch him at it, though.â
He thought about that. âIf you already know it, why do we have to catch him at it?â
âWe have to prove it. We have to find out where he takes it, so we can show Colonel Humphreys. Heâs bound to discharge Mr. Hoggart when he finds out. He might even go to jail.â
Tom smiled. âMight he?â
âHe probably would. But we have to catch him first. Somebodyâs got to slip in here one Sunday and spy on him.â
Tom stopped smiling, and frowned.
âNow, what darn fool do you suppose is goinâ to take a risk like that?â
âI thought you said youâd like to kill him.â
âKillinâ is one thing. Spyinâ on him when heâs alive and could kick your ribs in is another.â
âI didnât think you were such a coward,â I said.
He stopped sweeping and blinked at me. Then he said, âIf you was to do it, how would you do it?â
âWhy, duck behind a tree when Mr. Hoggart herded the boys off for church service, the way you always do. Then slip up here into the mill and watch to see if he comes up to the carding room with a sack. Thatâs easy enough, isnât it?â
âYou think heâd go to jail?â
âHe might,â I said.
Tom began to whistle. Then he went on up the stairs with the tea bucket, and I went on up after him. Well, I didnât know if heâd do it, or wouldnât do it. He wasnât going to promise anything. Iâd just have to wait to find out.
I didnât have a chance to talk to Robert until Sunday service. Mr. Hoggart was keeping him busy packing yarn and loading it to be shipped out, and I never saw Robert until Sunday. But on Sunday I told him.
We had two services, a morning service and an afternoon one. Between them we had a big Sunday dinner. All of us who had to travel some distance carried big dinner baskets and ate together.
During the good weather we generally ate Sunday dinner outside, sitting under trees, or on the stone walls. But now it had come late fall, and the air was getting chill, we ate in the carriage shed on the trestle tables the men would set up after the morning service. The women would all bring food from homeâpieces of roast pork, big pots of baked beans, johnnycake, fried squash, jellies, pickles. It was mighty pleasant sitting down to dinner with so many together in that big shed, the chickens pecking around for bits of corn bread
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