"You won't what?"
"I won't get up."
"I got down so that you might."
"I'm not that kind of a tenderfoot and you ought to know it by this time. No, sir; I don't do anything of the sort. Get back there and ride your own bundle of bones."
"I prefer to walk," answered Butler briefly.
"So do I, and I'm going to."
Neither would get into the saddle, so they very stubbornly started splashing along beside the pony, each with a hand on the bridle to save himself in case he stepped into a hole in the stream.
Tad continued calling until his voice gave out, but got no reply from anyone.
"Come now, you yell for a while," he urged.
"What shall I say?" asked Chunky innocently.