“No,” replied Archie, looking round in surprise.
“I dare say he ran off while we were thumpin’ the bull,” suggested Eddie.
“I’m here, boys! I’m here, Junkie,” cried a strange sepulchral voice, as if from the bowels of the earth.
“Where?” asked the boys gazing down at their feet with expressions of awe.
“He’s i’ the drain!” cried Junkie with an expanding mouth.
“Ay—that’s it! I’m in the drain! Lend a hand, boys; I can hardly move.”
They ran to him instantly, but it required the united powers of all three to get him out, and when they succeeded he was found to be coated all over one side with thick mud.
“What a muddle you’ve made of yourself, to be sure!” exclaimed Junkie. “Let me scrape you.”
But MacRummle refused to be scraped until they had placed the five-foot wall between himself and the black bull. Then he submitted with a profound sigh.