“Oh, that’s what yer thought, was it? Well, p’r’aps we shall, and p’r’aps we shan’t.”
“Do you think they will come after us!” ventured Dexter, after a time.
“Sure to, I should say; and if they do, and they kitches us, I shall say as it was you who stole the boat.”
“No, you won’t,” said Dexter, plucking up a little spirit now he was getting more himself. “You wouldn’t be such a sneak.”
“If you call me a sneak, I’ll chuck you out of the boat,” cried Bob angrily.
“I didn’t call you a sneak, I only said you wouldn’t be such a sneak,” protested Dexter.
“I know what you said: yer needn’t tell me, and I won’t have it, so now then. If you want to quarrel, you’d better get out and go back.”
“But I don’t want to quarrel, Bob; I want to be the best of friends.”
“Then don’t yer call me a sneak, because if you do it’ll be the worse for you.”
“Oh, I say, Bob,” protested Dexter, as he tugged away at his oar, “don’t be so disagreeable.”