Part 12 (2/2)
Scarlett stared at him wonderingly, ”Let's go down the same way that you were going, only not in such a hurry,” he added with a grin.
”What, climb down the hole?” said Scarlett, thoughtfully, and ignoring the smile. ”Yes. Why not?”
”Oh yes, we could, with a rope. Drive an iron bar down into the earth, and tie one end of the rope to it, and then go down.”
”You would not dare to go down that way.”
”Yes, I would,” said Fred, stoutly; ”and so would you,” he added.
”I don't know,” said Scarlett, dreamily. ”But I do. Shall we do it?
I'm ready if you are. Come along, then, back to our place, and let's make old Samson lend us a couple of good ropes.”
Scarlett nodded acquiescence, and the two lads, little thinking how their act would be of importance in the future, re-climbed the cliff and started toward the Manor at a run.
It proved very easy to propose getting a rope, but much harder to get one, for everything in the shape of hempen cord was under the care of Samson Dee, who had to be found, not at all a difficult task, for he was digging--at least, handling a spade--down the garden.
Samson greeted the coming of the lads with a smile, for it was another excuse for taking a foot from the ground, and resting it upon the spade.
But as soon as he heard the want, the smile faded from his face. ”You want a what?” he said. ”You know what I said, Samson, so no nonsense.
Let us have one directly.”
”You want a rope, Master Fred?”
”There, I told you that you did hear me. Yes; I want the longest rope about the place directly.”
”What yer want it for?”
”Never you mind. I tell you I want the rope.”
”To make a swing with, of course. Well, then, you can't have it.”
”Can't I?” said Fred, sharply. ”We'll soon see about that. Come along, Scar. Any one would think the ropes were his.”
”Look here, Master Fred, if you--”
Samson ceased speaking, for he was wise enough to see that he was wasting words in shouting after the two lads. But he began muttering directly about a ”pa.s.sell o' boys” coming and bothering him when he hadn't a moment to spare.
”And look here,” he shouted, as he saw his visitors trotting off with a coil of strong new rope belonging to the waggon, ”mind you bring that rope back again. Now, I wonder what them two are going to do?” he ended by muttering, and then set to work digging once more, but in so slow and methodical a fas.h.i.+on that the worms had plenty of time to get away from the sharp edge of the spade before it was driven home and cut them in half.
”Poor old Samson!” said Fred; ”he seems to think that everything belongs to him.”
”So does our Nat,” replied Scarlett. ”I often fancy he thinks I belong to him as well, from the way he shouts and orders me about.”
”But you never do what he tells you.”
”Of course not; and--Oh, Fred!”
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