“’S very kind of you, I’m sure. Yes, we took all that trouble jus’ so’s you could have the pleasure of treadin’ on it. Oh, yes, we feel quite paid for all the trouble we took now you’ve been kind enough to tread on it. Can we get you anythin’ else to tread on? I’m sure it’s very nice for the poor bird to think it’s had all the trouble of layin’ that egg jus’ for you to tread on——”
This rhetoric had resulted in a fight between William and Ginger, at the end of which both had rolled into a ditch. The ditch was not a dry ditch, but they were both so wet already that the immersion made little difference.
“Do?” said Henry indignantly. “Jus’ tell us what there is to do shut up in this ole place. Do? Huh!”
“I know what we can do,” said William suddenly, “we can make up a tale turn an’ turn about.”
They were sitting on the two wooden packing cases with which they had furnished their meeting place. A small rivulet ran between, having its source just beneath the hole in the roof at the other end of the barn and flowing out under the door. The Outlaws carelessly dabbled their feet in it as it passed. Their drooping spirits revived at William’s suggestion.
“A’ right,” said Henry, “you start.”
“A’ right,” said William modestly. “I don’ mind startin’. Once there was a man wot got cast upon a desert island.”
“Why?” said Ginger, “why was he cast upon a desert island?”
“’F you’re goin’ to keep on int’ruptin’ askin’ silly questions——” began William sternly.
“A’ right,” said Ginger pacifically. “A’ right. Go on.”