“Well, that’s in our own hands.”
“Just what I’ve been tellin’ the boys.” But there was a challenge in the voice.
“Your head’s level,” said Cheviot.
“Oh, you’re gettin’ tired, too! Comin’ round, are you?”
“I’ve had about enough of this sitting on the bar, if that’s what you mean.”
“Then why don’t we do something?”
“Just what I was going to propose,” said Cheviot briskly. “Trouble is there aren’t enough hands to get the coal out before—”
“Oh, yes, we know that’s his excuse.”
“His? It’s yours and mine. And a pretty lame excuse, too.”
“Was it you,” demanded Gedge truculently, “that put it into his empty cocoanut to ask us to lend a hand at pitchin’ our own stuff overboard?”