“Ayther of you thot loikes,” responded the boy calmly.
“I’ll be the one to go, Tom,” I cried, “I’ve got to see it with my own eyes to write it up properly.”
“Why can’t we both go?” exclaimed Tom eagerly. “I don’t want to be out of this.”
The boy broke in. “Needs two men oop on rope and poomp.”
“Oh pshaw!” said Tom disgustedly, “I don’t see why I shouldn’t be in this. I tell you what we’ll do,” he went on, his face brightening, “you go down first, and then come up, and I’ll go down after you.”
“All right,” I said. “It’s a go.”
The boy had stood motionless while our discussion had gone on.
“How’ll you get the stuff down?” I asked.
“Tike it on a barrow,” he replied briefly, turning to bring a big wheelbarrow forward.
“Tike they two,” he said, pointing to the two helmets on the right and the shoes below them. Tom and the lad took a helmet, and placed it on the barrow. I took a pair of shoes, and nearly dropped them. “Great Scott,” I ejaculated, “they weigh a ton.”