“Will Mr Marston go with us?”
“No. I asked him, and he said he should be too busy at present, but he would go in a fortnight’s time. He said he should not want either of us for a week, so we can go twice if we like.”
Tom smiled as if, in spite of his many wanderings, the idea of a ramble in the fen would be agreeable.
“Shall you fish?” he said.
“N–no, I don’t think I shall. I mean to have a long wander through the flats away west of the fir island.”
“You can’t,” said Tom; “it’s too boggy.”
“Not it. Only got to pick your way. Do you think I don’t know what I’m about?”
“Better take old Solomon with you, and ride him till he sinks in, and then you can walk along his back into a safe place.”
“Then I’d better take another donkey too, and get him to lie down when I come to another soft place.”
“Ah, I would!” said Tom.