“Oh, but he will,” I cried. “He is so particular about the ropes.”
“So he be, my lad. Here, let’s brush you down; you’re a bit dirty.”
“But he will,” I said, as I submitted to the operation.
“Not he,” said Ike. “Them police is in the right of it. I’m all of a shiver, now that bit of a burst’s over;” and he wiped his brow.
“You are, Ike?” I said wonderingly.
“To be sure I am, my lad. I was all right there, and ready to fight; but now it’s over and we’re well out of it, I feel just as I did when the cart tipped up and all the baskets come down atop of you.”
“I am glad you feel like that,” I said.
“Why?” he cried sharply.
“Because it makes me feel that I was not such a terrible coward after all.”
“But you were,” he said, giving me a curious look. “Oh, yes: about as big a coward as ever I see.”