“Ay, to be sure, mate; but when a brother workman’s in trouble it is one’s business to help him. You’re in trouble now. Like a man to run and get a doctor to see to that hole the dog made in your trousers?”
There was a roar of laughter.
“Don’t grin, mates,” said Vores; “they’re nearly a new pair, and there’s a hole made in the leg. He thinks it’s in his skin.”
There was another roar of laughter which made Dinass look viciously round, his eyes lighting sharply on the dog, which had gone close up to the opening where the skep would rise, and kept on whining anxiously.
“Smells his master,” said Vores; and the dog then uttered a sharp bark as the top of the skep appeared with the link and iron bands attached to the wire rope.
Then, to the surprise of all, Colonel Pendarve, the Major, and Sam Hardock stepped wearily out, their trousers wet, their mackintoshes and flannels discoloured, and their faces wet with perspiration.
“Here you are, then, gentlemen,” said Vores; “we thought you were lost. The young gents are waiting to come up, I s’pose.”
“Young gents?—waiting to come up?” cried the Colonel, who had just looked round with a disappointed air at not seeing his son waiting. “What do you mean?”
“We all got tired o’ waiting, and scared at your being so long, sir; and the young gents went down with Tom Dinass to seek for you.”
“What? I don’t understand you,” cried the Colonel, excitedly. “Dinass is here.”