“Might as well have helped me before, and then I shouldn’t have been so knocked about.”
Distin shook his head, and began to roll up his pocket-handkerchief to form a cord.
“There’s no hurry,” said Vane, thoughtfully. “I want a rest.”
The lowermost boy uttered a groan, for his imprisonment was painful.
“Better let’s get it over,” said Distin, advancing and planting a foot on a prisoner who looked as if he were meditating an attempt to escape.
“No hurry,” said Vane, quietly, “you haven’t been fighting and got pumped out. Besides, it wants thinking about. I don’t quite understand it yet. I can’t see why you should do what you did. It was so cowardly.”
“Don’t I know all that,” cried Distin, fiercely. “Hasn’t it been eating into me? I’m supposed to be a gentleman, and I’ve acted toward you like a miserable cad, and disgraced myself forever. It’s horrible and I want to get it over.”
“I don’t,” said Vane, slowly.
“Can’t you see how maddening it is. I’ve got to go with you to take these beasts—no, I will not call them that, for I tempted them with money to do it all, and they have turned and bitten me.”
“Yes: that was being hoist with your own petard, Mr Engineer,” cried Vane, merrily.