“Oh rubbish!” said Courtenay. “Just as if I couldn’t go down a ladder. Here, stand aside.”
Mr Solomon did not stand aside, and he looked so very sturdy and firm that Courtenay gave up and drew back with his brother, whispering and waiting his opportunity.
During this time the plumber had been rattling his tools in his basket, and Mr Solomon turned to him again.
“Ain’t you going to try her?” he said. “That well hasn’t been open these two years.”
“Oh! she’s right enough,” said the plumber sourly. “It ain’t the first time I’ve been down a well.”
“But I don’t think it’s safe,” said Mr Solomon. “What do you say?” he continued, turning to Ike.
“Looks right enough,” said Ike, kneeling down and looking into the well. Then rising, “but I wouldn’t go down unless I didn’t want to come up no more.”
“Tchah!” ejaculated the plumber; and I knelt down once more to look for the danger, but could see nothing but the dark whispering hole, with, at a great depth below, the round disc of light representing the mouth of the well.
Just then something passed my head and fell down with, after a while, a strange hollow plash from below.
“That’ll do,” said Mr Solomon angrily. “No more of that, please.”