"Shall we put him with the rest?"
"Yes."
Without ceremony, poor Tom was marched away to the trap-door, a man on each side of him. Dan Baxter came behind.
"You don't like it, do you?" sneered the bully. "You'll like it still less when you get below. It's beautifully damp and musty."
"You're a cheerful brute, Dan," answered Tom.
"Hi! don't you call me a brute!" stormed Baxter.
"Oh, excuse me, I didn't mean to insult the dumb creation," responded
Tom. "Baxter, you are the limit. I suppose you have joined this gang."
"What if I have?"
"I am sorry for you, that's all."
"Oh, don't preach!"