“There, hold hard, Master Aleck,” he growled, looking up at the lad. “I won’t hurt yer now.”
“Thankye,” said the boy, mockingly, as he stopped, holding on by a projecting rock in the stiff slope, and well on his guard to go on climbing if there was the slightest sign of pursuit.
“You made me wild by hitting out at me.”
“Serve you right, you great lumbering coward, to serve me like that!”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Yes, you did—brute! You squeezed my wrist as hard as you could.”
“Well, I didn’t want to hurt you much. But you did make me wild, you know, hitting me like you did.”
“Look here,” cried Aleck, fiercely, as the man took a step to continue climbing to where the boy stood, some thirty feet above him, “you come another step, and I’ll send this big stone down at you—it is loose.”
“I don’t want to ketch you now, only to talk quiet without having to shout.”
“I can hear you plainly enough. Sit down.”