“And then stay in?”
“No, no; nonsense. Now don’t bother me any more.”
“I won’t get into any trouble,” Aleck said to himself, as he hurried out, armed with two huge sandwiches and a mug of well-sweetened coffee, with which he got on pretty well going through the garden, hardly spilling a drop, till he was startled by the voice of the gardener, saying, from the other side, in anticipation:
“Thankye, Master Aleck. That’s very good of yer.”
That startling made the lad half stop, and about a tablespoonful of the hot preparation flew out on to the path. But Aleck paid no attention, not even turning his head, but increasing his pace, with the mug troubling him a good deal in his efforts to preserve the liquid in a state of equilibrium in a rapidly descending and very slippery and uneven rocky path.
“I daresay you’d like it,” muttered Aleck, as he hurried on, followed directly after by:
“I’m over here, Master Aleck.”
“Thank you for the information, Ness, but they say none are so deaf as those who will not hear.”
At the next zigzag of the path he was out of sight and hearing, and a few minutes later close upon the niche devoted to his boat, with the big sandwiches complete, and quite three parts of the coffee in the mug.
“Sorry to have been so long, Tom,” he cried, breathlessly, “but here you—”