Young Sam Kidbrooke's voice came from the bell-tower and
made them jump.
'Why, jimmy,'he called, 'what are you doin' here? Fetch
him, Father!'
Old Mr Kidbrooke stumped downstairs, jerked Jimmy on to
his shoulder, stared at the children beneath his brass spectacles,
and stumped back again. They laughed: it was so exactly like
Mr Kidbrooke.
'It's all right,' Una called up the stairs. 'We found him, Sam.
Does his mother know?'
'He's come off by himself. She'll be justabout crazy,'
Sam answered.
'Then I'll run down street and tell her.' Una darted off.
'Thank you, Miss Una. Would you like to see how we're
mendin' the bell-beams, Mus' Dan?'
Dan hopped up, and saw young Sam lying on his stomach in a
most delightful place among beams and ropes, close to the five
great bells. Old Mr Kidbrooke on the floor beneath was planing a
piece of wood, and Jimmy was eating the shavings as fast as they
came away. He never looked at Jimmy; Jimmy never stopped
eating; and the broad gilt-bobbed pendulum of the church clock
never stopped swinging across the white-washed wall of the
tower.
Dan winked through the sawdust that fell on his upturned face.
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