CHAPTER III.
"NOT FINISHED."
The next morning he went upon his journey, and a few days later the son came. He was a tall young fellow, with a dark, strongly cut face, deep-set black eyes and an unconventional air. Those who had been wont to watch his father, watched him in his turn with quite as much interest. He seemed to apply himself to the task of exploring the place at once. He went out a great deal and in all sorts of weather. He even presented himself at "Haworth's," and making friends with Floxham got permission to go through the place and look at the machinery. His simple directness of speech at once baffled and softened Floxham.
"My name's Murdoch," he said. "I'm an American and I'm interested in mechanics. If it isn't against your rules I should like to see your machinery."
Floxham pushed his cap off his forehead and looked him over.
"Well, I'm dom'd," he remarked.
It had struck him at first that this might be "cheek." And then he recognized that is was not.
Murdoch looked slightly bewildered.
"If there is any objection——" he began.
"Well, there is na," said Floxham. "Coom on in." And he cut the matter short by turning into the door.
