“Yes, sir; all right, sir. I know. I’d double, but the going is too bad.”
“Of course, my lad; impossible. But are you mad?”
“Yes, sir; downright savage at the murderous brutes. This is their way o’ treating the wounded.”
“I didn’t mean that, my man, but the way you’re carrying me.”
Shot after shot came whistling and buzzing by them from behind as he spoke, but still without effect.
“I’m carrying you all right, sir. Can’t help hurting you a bit. It’s easy this way.”
“Nonsense, man. Set me down at once. I can stand. Then sling your rifle in front, and take me on your back.”
“There they go, sir,” said Gedge as another shot buzzed by, telling of its rough shape. “They never did no pigeon-shooting, sir, nor practised at sparrers from the trap.”
“Did you hear what I said, sir?” cried Bracy angrily. “Set me down, and get me on your back. I can hold on with one hand and leave yours free.”
“Couldn’t use ’em if they was, sir.”