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Stirling, under Myatt's shouted guidance, backed into an obscure yard under cover. The engine ceased to throb. "Friend of mine," he introduced me to Myatt. "By the way, Loring, pass me my bag, will you? Mustn't forget that." Then he extinguished the acetylene lamps, and there was no light in the yard except the ray of the bicycle lantern which Myatt held in his hand. We groped towards the house.
The world was being informed of the might of Jos Myatt, and of the averting of disaster from Knype, and of the results of over a hundred other matches not counting Rugby.
Reluctant boots on the stairs! Jos Myatt entered to me. He did not speak at first; nor did I. He avoided my glance. He was still wearing the cut-away coat with the line of mud up the back. I took out my watch, not for the sake of information, but from mere nervousness, and the sight of the watch reminded me that it would be prudent to wind it up. "Better not forget that," I said, winding it.
Though the crisis possibly intimidated me somewhat, yet, on behalf of Jos Myatt, I was ashamed of it. This may be reprehensible, but it is true. He sat down by the fire and looked at the fire.
But long before that Leonora was rich. Uncle Meshach had died and left her the Myatt fortune for life, with remainder to the three girls absolutely in equal shares. Fred was the executor and trustee, and Fred's own share of the bounty was a total remission of Meshach's loan to him.
The whole matter could be traced back, through a series of situations which had developed one out of another, to the character of old Twemlow; but the final romantic solution was only rendered possible by the peculiarities of Meshach Myatt. William Twemlow had been one of those men in whom an unbridled appetite for virtue becomes a vice.
Charlie had a grey muffler round his neck; his hands were far in his pockets and seemed to be at strain, as though trying to prevent his upper and his lower garments from flying apart. Jos Myatt was extremely dishevelled. In the little man's demeanour towards the big one there was now none of the self-conscious pride in the mere fact of acquaintance that I had noticed on the field.
His head was very small the sole remainder of the doll in him. A little man approached him, conscious somewhat too obviously conscious of his right to approach. Myatt nodded. "Ye'n settled him, seemingly, Jos!" said the little man. "Well," said Myatt, with slow bitterness. "Hadn't he been blooming well begging and praying for it, aw afternoon? Hadn't he now?" The little man nodded.
"It being a lad and a wench," said Charlie, with a judicial air, "and me 'aving laid as it 'ud be a wench, I wins." In his accents and his gestures I could discern the mean soul, who on principle never paid until he was absolutely forced to pay. I could see also that Jos Myatt knew his man. "Thou laidst me as it wasna' a lad," Jos almost shouted. "And a lad it is, I tell thee."
He forgot that he had hated his father, and his mind was obsessed by a sentimental and pure passion for justice. 'Say! Mr. Myatt, he exclaimed with sudden gruffness, 'do you suggest that John Stanway didn't do my father right? 'My lad, I'm doing no suggesting.... You can keep the book if you've a mind to.
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