“Oh, all right, Mas’ Don. I’ll do as you say, but as I says, and I says it again, it goes ag’in the grain.”
They each took one hand and placed their arms beneath those of the prostrate man; and, little as they stooped, they inhaled sufficient of the powerful gas to make them wince and cough; but, rising upright, taking a full breath and starting off, they dragged Ramsden backwards as rapidly as they could to where the fresh air blew into the mouth of the cave, and there they laid the man down.
But before doing so, Don went upon his knees, and placing his face close to the rocky floor, inhaled the air several times.
“It seems all right here,” he said. “Try it, Jem.”
“Oh! I’ll try it,” said Jem, grumpily; “only I don’t see why we should take so much trouble about such a thing as this.”
“Yes; it’s all right,” he said, after puffing and blowing down by the ground. “Rum, arn’t it, that the air should be bad yonder and not close in here!”
“The cave goes downward,” said Don; “and the foul air lies in the bottom, just as it does in a well. Do you think he’s dead?”
“Him dead!” said Jem, contemptuously; “I don’t believe you could kill a thing like that. Here, let’s roll up one of these here blanket things and make him a pillow, and cover him up with the other, poor fellow, so as he may get better and go and tell ’em we’re here.”
“Don’t talk like that, Jem!” cried Don.
“Why not? Soon as he gets better he’ll try and do us all the harm he can.”