“No, not yet,” grumbled Jem. “Nor more you won’t if you go on for ever.”
“I’m afraid you’re right, Jem.”
“I’m right, and I arn’t afraid,” said Jem; “leastwise, save that my head’s going on aching for ever.”
Don felt all round the cellar again, and then heaved a sigh.
“Yes; there’s only one door, Jem. Could we break it down?”
“I could if I’d some of the cooper’s tools,” said Jem, quietly; “but you can’t break strong doors with your fisties, and you can’t get out of brick cellars with your teeth.”
“Of course, we’re underground.”
“Ay! No doubt about that, Mas’ Don.”
“Let’s knock and ask for a pencil and paper to send a message.”
Jem uttered a loud chuckle as he seated himself on the floor.