“Shall we shout for help?”
“You can if you like,” said Josh quietly. “I sha’n’t. It makes your throat sore, and don’t do no good.”
“Don’t be cross with me, Josh,” cried Will excitedly.
“Oh! I arn’t cross with you, lad; I’m cross with myself. It’s allus my way: I never did have no head. Think o’ me walking straight into a corner like this, and no way hardly out. Well, anyhow, it’s being mate-like to you, my lad, and it won’t be so dull.”
“But, Josh, you could climb out and go for help.”
“Why, of course I could,” he replied. “I never thought of that.”
“Then go at once. Bring a couple of men; and then if you left me the rope you could haul me up.”
“Why I could haul you up myself, couldn’t I? and then nobody need know anything about it. Here goes.”
Will could not help a shudder as his companion proceeded to haul up the portion of the rope that hung down in the shaft, coiling it in rings in the gallery till it was all there.
“Now, then, you mind as that don’t fall while I go up again,” said Josh. “I wish it warn’t so gashly dark.”