“What, aren’t there a tug-o’-war?”
“Not here, messmet. But I say, I don’t stomach this here darkness. It’s like being at work in the hold. Mind!”
“All right, I see it coming, mate,” said Smith, as a great lump of cinder fell close to him. “Didn’t touch me.”
“Miss is as good as a mile, mate, eh? But don’t it seem as if someone up above was heaving these stones at us because we are not wanted here.”
“Come along, my lads!” cried Oliver, halting for them to hasten up. “Take my gun, Smith, and I’ll carry the ladder for a bit.”
“Not me, sir, begging your pardon. This here ladder’s about the awkwardest and heaviest ladder as ever was for his size.”
“Then let me rest you.”
“No, sir. I’ve got used to it now. You couldn’t carry it. Could he, Billy?”
“Not much, lad. We’re all right, sir. You go on and show us the way. If you manage, we can.”
“Better let me rest you, my lad.”