“No,” said Mr Temple. “I have a small keen knife here. I can cut it out better than you.”
“Cut it out!” roared Josh, completely drowning Arthur’s cry of horror. “You mustn’t cut it out. Here, let Will do it. His fingers is handier than mine.”
“Yes, sir, I can get it out very quickly,” said Will eagerly.
“Do it, then,” said Mr Temple. “I’ll hold him.”
“No, no, no!” shrieked Arthur.
“Be silent, sir,” said his father sternly; and Arthur was cowed by the angry look and words.
“Poor old Taff!” said Dick to him softly as he held his hand. “I wish it was in my leg instead;” and the tears stood in his eyes, bespeaking his sincerity as he spoke.
“Give me that old marlinspike, Josh, and your knife,” said Will quickly; and he took the iron bar and great jack-knife that were handed to him.
“My good lad, what are you going to do?” said Mr Temple. “You must not dig it out with that.”
“Oh, no, sir!” said Will, smiling confidently. “I’m going to cut the shank in two so as to get rid of the flattened end. Here, you hold his leg on the gunwale. That’s it. Pinch the hook with your fingers. I won’t cut ’em, sir.”