Legge turned away and moved into the ingle-nook. Watchman looked after him. Cubitt noticed that Watchman’s good humour seemed to be restored. Any one would have thought that he had won the bet and that it had been for a much larger sum. And for no reason in the world Cubitt felt that there had been a passage of arms between Legge and Watchman, and that Watchman had scored a hit.

‘What about you, Abel?’ Watchman asked abruptly. ‘Are you going to paint the Feathers red?’

‘Me sir? No. I don’t hold with Will’s revolutionary ideas and he knows it, but us’ve agreed to differ. Does no harm, I reckon, for these young chaps to meet every Friday and make believe they’re hashing up the laws and serving ‘em out topsy-turvy—game in servants’ hall and prunes and rice for gentry. Our Will was always a great hand for make-believe from the time he learned to talk. Used to strut about taproom giving orders to the furniture. “I be as good as Squire, now,” he’d say in his little lad’s voice and I reckon he’s saying it yet.’

‘You’re blind to reason, father,’ said Will. ‘Blind-stupid and hidebound. Either you can’t see or you won’t. Us chaps are working for the good of all, not for ourselves.’

‘Right enough, sonny. A fine noble ideal, I don’t doubt, and when you’ve got us all toeing the line with no handicaps and nothing to run for—’

‘The good of the State to run for. Each man equal—’

‘And all coming in first. Damn’ queer sort of race.’

‘The old argument,’ said Legge from the fireplace, ‘and based as usual on a false analogy.’

‘Is it a false analogy?’ asked Watchman. ‘You propose to kill private enterprise—’

‘A chap,’ said Will Pomeroy, ‘will be as ambitious for the public good as he will for his own selfish aims. Give him the chance—that’s all. Teach him to think. The people—’

‘The people!’ interrupted Watchman, looking at Legge’s back. ‘What do you mean by the people? I suppose you mean that vast collection of individuals whose wages are below a certain sum and who are capable of being led by the nose when the right sort of humbug comes along.’

‘That’s no argument,’ began Will angrily. ‘That’s no more than a string of silly opinions.’

‘That’ll do, sonny,’ said Abel.

‘It’s all right, Abel,’ said Watchman, still looking at Legge. ‘I invited the discussion. No offence, I should like to hear what Mr Legge has to say about private enterprise. As treasurer—’

‘Wait a bit, Bob,’ said Will as Legge turned from the fireplace. ‘I don’t like the way you said that, Mr Watchman. Bob Legge here is well-respected in the Coombe. He’s not been long in these parts, ten months isn’t it, Bob? But we’ve learned to know him and we’ve learned to like him. Reckon we’ve showed we trust him, too, seeing the position we’ve given him.’