"Well, there you are," he said.
He figetted about with his killing-bottle and things, then made a hopeless sort of a sound like an engine letting off steem.
"We must consider meens of eskape," I said. "People come here sometimes, no doubt.
"Only boys out of bounds," said Morris faintly. "Oh, what would I give to see the face of Freckles peep over the top!"
"It's impossible," I told him. "Freckles is spending the holidays with some cousins in Norfolkshire. But there are often keepers in the woods to look after the game."
"Then we must shout at intervals, night and day—as long as we've got the strength to do it, said Morris.
"Before each shout we will eat a sandwich to increese our strength," I said. But Morris fancied half a sandwich would be safer.
I thort it wasn't much good beginning by starving ourselves. In adventures nobody begins by starving—they end like that; but Morris, who has a watch, looked at it and said the time was only half-past ten and that, even if we were safe and within reach of food, we should not eat any for two hours and a half. But I said planely I could not waite that time and it ended by our dividing the food into two heaps of exactly the same size to a crumb. And I eat a sandwich boldly and fearlessly, but Morris shook his head and said it was foolhardy.
He took a very hopeless view from the first, and even thort that perhaps, when my food was all gone and his hardly begun, I should turn on him with the feerceness of starvashun and tare his food away from him. But I said, "No, Morris. What ever tortures I may suffer, I am a gentleman, and I would rather die a hundred times than take as much as one seed out of your peece of cake."
This comforted him rather. He put his hand on his chin and stared before him in a very feeble manner.