“No,” said Bob, sticking his hands farther into his pockets and sidling off; “I’m going home.”
“Oh, I say, don’t spoil our fun, Bob,” I cried.
“’Taint me; it’s you,” he said. “I sha’n’t stay.”
“Oh, if it’s me I’m very sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean to be disagreeable.”
“Oh, well, if you’re sorry and didn’t mean to be disagreeable I’ll stay,” he said. “Only don’t you do it again.”
“Say you won’t,” whispered Big.
“Well, I won’t do it again,” I cried, though I felt all the time as if I wanted to laugh outright.
“Then I sha’n’t say any more about it,” said Bob, relenting all at once. “I say, Big, is that rope strong?”
“Strong enough to hold all of us,” he replied. “Here, come along. It’ll soon be dinner-time. I’m getting hungry now.”
“Why, you’re always hungry, Big,” cried Bob as we began to climb the steep slope diagonally.