Then for about a minute we had a combined wrestle and fight about the cabin, with the result that I, being dressed and in better condition, got him down and sat upon his chest, panting heavily, to get my breath, while I could feel the saddle upon which I sat move sharply up and down.
“There,” I said good-temperedly, “I knew you weren’t bad. Will you dress yourself, and come on deck if I get off?”
“I’ll half-kill you!” he snarled through his set teeth.
“Then I’ll sit here till you change your mind.”
He drew up his knees, so as to get his heels as near me as he could, then placed his hands close to his ribs, waited a few moments to get his breath, and at a moment when he thought I was quite off my guard, he raised his chest so as to make a bow of his spine, and giving a sudden quick heave, tried to throw me off sidewise.
But I had too good a seat for my restive steed, and nipping him tightly, held on while he frantically tried the same movement again and again, till he was compelled to stop from lack of breath. And all the time his face grew blacker with fury, while mine was puckered up by mirth, for I was thoroughly enjoying the fun of the thing, and not in the least alarmed by his threats.
“You beast!” he snarled. “Only wait till my turn comes, and you shall have it for this.”
“Not I, my lad,” I cried merrily. “You’ll be as pleased as can be to-morrow, and thank me for doing you so much good. Why, Walters, old chap, you’re growing stronger every minute. I thought you were so faint you couldn’t move.”
“So I am, and you’re suffocating me by sitting on my chest, you cowardly wretch.”
“Not I. It makes the bellows work better,” I cried, as I bumped gently up and down. “Good for you after lying there so long. Ready for another try?”