“Never to breathe a word to any boy, master or animal?”
“Never to breathe a word to any boy, master or animal.”
“You’re a good sort, Stocky. Somehow, one can trust you—and one can’t most of them. They’ll be on to you after we’re gone, you know!”
“I don’t care.”
“They’ll try to get it out of you.”
“I don’t care. They shan’t.”
“In any way they can. Perhaps they’ll stop your football.”
Jeremy drew a deep breath. “I don’t care,” he repeated slowly.
“We’ll have a great time,” Raikes said, as though addressing his reluctant half. “We’ll come back ever so rich in a year or two, and then won’t you wish you’d come with us!”
What Jeremy did wish was that they had told him nothing about it. Oh, how he wished it! Why had they dragged him in? Suppose they did stop his football? Oh, but they couldn’t! It wasn’t his fault that he’d heard about it.