"Yes."
"No you don't! My death will be on your head if you do. Don't you ever accuse me of not having any feeling, if you go away and leave me treed like a coon at bay."
"I suppose I'll have to take you, but the pony's pretty well played out and so am I. Here, give me your hand."
In trying to make the pass from the limb to the pony, Stacy fell into the water with a splash and uttering a yell. He thought he was going to be drowned, but was surprised when he found that the water did not reach far above his waist. The pony, frightened by the splash, leaped to one side, nearly unseating its rider.
"You're a lumbering lummox," rebuked Tad.
"So are you. If you hadn't been, you wouldn't have let me fall. Are you going to help me get up?"
"Yes. I will get down and walk. You may ride if you want to. I'm not going to ask the pony to carry us both."
Chunky reflected over this for a moment. Tad slipped down into the cold water.
"Get up there, and mind you don't let my pony get away," ordered Butler.
"I won't!"