“Don’t you?” said Will good-humouredly, while Josh went on growling to himself and looking disgusted down between his knees. “Well, I’ll try and show you. Now, you look right behind you and you can see that we’re opening out that old chimney on the top of Toll Pen.”
“Opening out!” said Dick. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Well, beginning to see it come into sight.”
“Oh! now I know,” cried Dick. “I say, is there anything the matter with him?” he added, for Josh was rumbling with indignation at their visitor’s “gashly ignorance.”
“No, there arn’t,” growled Josh roughly. “Only they did ought to teach you something at school.”
“They do,” said Dick, laughing merrily; “but they don’t know anything about bearings and openings out, and such things. It’s all Latin, and Greek, and algebra, and Euclid.”
“And none o’ them won’t teach you how to lay a boat to her bearin’s on a bit o’ good fishing-ground,” said Josh; “and it’s a good job for you, my lad, as you’ve run acrost us. We will teach you something afore we’ve done.”
“Why, you have already,” cried Dick. “I say, are you tired? Shall I help you now?”
“Tired? No, lad, not us. No. There, you keep your eye on that old chimney. Tell him, Will, how to find the ground.”
“All right!” said Will. “Well, you see that pile of stones on the top of the hill behind the chimney to the right?”