“I say,” said he, after his pursuers had taken breath and granted an amnesty, “it would be great fun to drive home by ourselves. Tom’s not here. I asked them. He’s gone to see his aunt, or somebody, and left word he’d be back at three o’clock. Like his cheek. I vote we don’t wait for him.”
“All serene,” said the others, “but we shall want the horse, shan’t we?”
“Perhaps we shall,” said Dick, with a grin, “unless you’d like to pull the trap. The horse is in the stable, and we can tip the fellow to put him in for us.”
The “fellow” was quite amenable to this sort of persuasion, and grinningly complied with the whim of the young gentlemen; secretly enjoying the prospect of Tom’s dismay.
“’Taint no concern of mine,” said he, philosophically. “If you tells me to do it, I does it.”
“And if we tells you to open your mouth and shut your eyes, and you’ll find sixpence in your hand,—you’ll find it there,” said Dick.
“Of course you knows how to drive,” said the stableman.
“Rather! Do you think we’re babies? Here, shy us the reins. Come along, you fellows, there’s room for all three on the box. Now then, Joe, give her her head. Come up, you beast! Swish! See if we don’t make her step out. Let her go!”
With some misgivings, Joe obeyed, and next moment the waggonette swayed majestically out of the yard very much like a small steam-tug going out of harbour in half a cap of wind.
“Rum, the way she pitches,” said Dick presently; “she didn’t do it when we came.”