“Oh, look here, my man,” said Mr Solomon as we came up, “you had better stop here and help. Lower down that ladder.”
Ike took hold of the ladder as if it were an enemy, gave me a nod, and I went and stood at the foot, so as to hold it down, while Ike raised it erect, and then, taking it by the rounds with his strong brown hands, he lifted it as if it had been a feather, and, walking to the mouth of the well, let the ladder glide softly down till he held the top in his hands; then, swinging it about, he found a resting-place for the bottom upon a piece of wood such as were fixed across the well every ten or a dozen feet to support the pipe and other gear of the pump.
“That do, master?” said Ike.
“Yes,” said Mr Solomon. “Now, Mr Grinling, you had better try her. Here, stop, what are you going to do?”
“Going down,” said Courtenay.
“Do you know that well is perhaps very foul?” cried Mr Solomon.
“Then it’s your place to keep it clean,” said Philip sharply. “Go on down, Court, or else I shall.”
“You won’t, neither of you, go down while I’m here,” said Mr Solomon stoutly.
“What right have you to interfere?” cried Courtenay:
“Same right as any man has to interfere when he sees a young goose going to throw away his life.”