“But you have talked, and it’s all over now; so come along.”
“No,” cried Dyke firmly, and he caught his brother’s rein.
“I say, old chap, are you the boss here, or am I?”
“I am, this morning,” said the boy, looking up in his brother’s big manly face. “I want you to listen to me.”
“Well, go ahead then, and let’s get it over.”
“It’s been like this, Joe. I’ve got in a bad way of thinking lately. It’s all been so disappointing, and no matter what one did, nothing came right.”
“Yes, that’s true enough, old chap,” said Emson, rather drearily; “and we have tried precious hard.”
“You have, Joe, and I’ve been a regular sulky, disappointed sort of brute.”
“Coat been a bit rough, Dyke, old chap, eh? Out of sorts.”
“I suppose in my head; but, Joe, I am sorry—I can’t say it as I should like to, but I—I will try now.”