All in quite a smothered whisper, and then there was another moan.
“Now again. All together.”
I joined in and dragged with all my might, but our efforts were in vain, Barney paused to get a fresh messmate’s legs.
“He’s worked himself on till he’s regularly jammed in,” growled Bob. “Now then, once more; we must have him, or he’ll be a dead ’un. Haul. Now then!”
We all dragged together. There was a sudden giving way, a rush, and I was on my back with two men—it felt like three—upon me, and I dare not call out in my horror and pain, but had to lie there listening to passing footsteps overhead until they had gone, and then to my greater horror Bob Hampton growled out—
“Well, we’ve got his legs, anyhow.”
There was a smothered groan once more.
“It’s all right, messmate,” said Barney. “Here’s his uppards and head come too. Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. Are you hurt?”
“Hurt?—yes!” I said angrily, “but never mind me. How’s Dumlow?”
There was a low groan in answer.