Crack! went the whip again, and I saw Shock bend down.
“I’m a-cutting the cart rope,” he shouted.
“Come down.” Crack! went the whip.
Shock did not speak.
“Will he cut the rope?” I whispered.
“If he do we shall be two hours loading up again, and a lot o’ things smashed,” growled Ike. Then aloud:
“Are you a coming down? Get down and go home.”
“Sha’n’t!” came from above us; and, like a good general, Ike accepted his defeat, and climbed back to his place on the left shaft, while I took mine on the right.
“It’s no good,” he said in a low grumbling tone. “When he says he won’t, he won’t, and them ropes is the noo ’uns. He’ll have to go on with us now; and I’m blest if I don’t think we’ve lost a good ten minutes over him and his noise.”
“I’ve been to Paris and I’ve been to Dover,” came from over our heads.