“Shan’t.”
“Oh, you won’t, won’t you?” cried a gruff voice; and old Dan’l came from behind a laurustinus clump. “You, Peter—you go and get a basket full o’ them brickbats from down by the frames, and we’ll soon see whether he’ll stop there.”
“Yah! go on with your old brickbats. Who cares for you!” cried Bob. “Yah! look at him! Who stole the boat, and cried to go home again? Who stole the boat?”
“Oh, if I could only get across!” said Dexter, in a hoarse low voice.
“Would you give it him if you could!” said old Dan’l, with a grim laugh.
“Yes,” said Dexter, between his teeth.
“Ay, he would, Dan’l,” said Peter excitedly. “I wish he was over yonder.”
“Yah! yah! look at the old caterpillar-killers,” cried Bob. “Who stole the boat? Yah!”
These last were farewell shots.
“They won’t bite here,” cried Bob, moving off, “but don’t you think you frightened me away. Come as often as I like. Yah! take him home!”