“I say, Dick, what about the netting?” cried Tom.
The lad looked piteously at Dave and his companion of the rabbit warren—two inseparable friends—and felt that his chance of seeing the ruffs and reeves captured was very small.
“Are you going—to-day, Dave?” he faltered.
“Nay, lad,” said Dave dryly, “yow’ve had enough o’ the bog for one day. Go and dry thysen. I’ll coom and fetch thee to-morrow.”
So the lads went up to the house, the men returned to their draining, and the wheelwright walked slowly away with Dave and John Warren.
“Let’s run, Dick,” said Tom, who was carrying the rope; “then you won’t catch cold.”
“Oh, I sha’n’t hurt,” said Dick, running all the same; and in passing the yard they closed the gate, for Solomon was safe inside; but as they reached the house, where Mrs Winthorpe stood staring aghast at her son’s plight, Solomon burst forth with another dismal, loud complaining: “He-haw!”