Stephen chuckled: “I always knew those rules in the grammar wouldn’t work both ways.”
Charles and Will did not seem inclined to help Marmaduke out of his difficulty—probably they were as much puzzled as he. As for George, he was not at all disconcerted: when he understood a thing, he knew that he understood it. He looked on with supreme indifference, not thinking it worth while to give his views.
“See how Bob behaved himself the night of the experiment,” Charles observed, coming back to the matter in hand. “He will always be trying to do us some harm if we let him off this time.”
“Yes,” chimed in Steve, glancing at the helpless captive, who was still on the raft, “we let him go that night and see how he has rewarded us for our mercy!”
“You wouldn’t have let him escape if it hadn’t been for me;” Will corrected.
“We didn’t hunt him down the next day, as we might have done!” Steve rejoined, as though that settled the question.
“I hope we are hardly such a set of cold-blooded fellows as that!” George said. “And besides what great harm did he do that night?”
“Oh, you, George Andrews!” Stephen retorted wrathfully. “I suppose you think we’re harping on your performances that night, but we’re not.”
“You had better not, Stephen Goodfellow!” said George also becoming wrathful. “You promised that you wouldn’t speak of that to me again.”