“What, get him out? If we do, he’ll be down on us.”
“We can’t help that, Jem. We must not leave a fellow-creature to die,” replied Don; and hurrying forward, he gave a glance toward the mouth of the cave, to satisfy himself that the good-natured boatswain was not there, and then, holding his breath, he stooped down and raised Ramsden into a sitting posture, Jem coming forward at once to help him.
“Goes ag’in the grain, Mas’ Don,” he muttered; “but I s’pose we must.”
“Must? Yes! Now, what shall we do?”
“Dunno,” said Jem; “s’pose fresh air’d be best for him.”
“Let’s get him to the mouth, then,” said Don.
“But the boatswain ’ll see us, and we shall be took.”
“I can’t help that, Jem; the man will die here.”
“Well, we don’t want him. He’s a hennymee.”
“Jem!”