“Oh, I’m man enough,” said the miner, taking out his pipe and tobacco, “but I don’t go down this time, I tell you.”
“Yes, you do,” said the man who had spoken. “Ready?”
“Nay,” cried Dinass, thrusting back his pipe and pouch and catching up a miner’s pick, which he swung round his head; “keep back, you cowards. You’re afraid to go yourselves, and you want to force me. Keep off, or I’ll do someone a mischief. There isn’t one of you as dare tackle me like a man.”
“Oh, yes, there is,” cried the first speaker; “any of us would. Now, once more, will you go down with the young gentlemen?”
“Go yourself. No!”
“Oh, I’d go, but it’s your job. You’re made next to Master Sam Hardock, so just show that you’re worth the job.”
“Lower away there,” cried Dinass, “and let the boys go down theirselves.”
“Not me,” said the engineer.
“Right,” said the leader of the men. “Now, Tom Dinass, this time settles it: will you go down?”
“No!”