Part 44 (1/2)
”Yah!” came in a fierce growl from the men outside.
”Ah, but you don't mean it,” cried the engineer.
”Yes, I do,” cried Dina.s.s. ”Don't you be so precious handy sending people where they don't want to go. Why don't you go yourself?”
”How can I go?” said the engineer, sharply. ”My dooty's here. Can you manage the skep and rope?”
”How do I know till I try?” growled Dina.s.s.
”Try? Why, you'd be doing some mischief. I've no right to leave my work while anyone's down, and I won't leave it; but I'd go if I was free.”
”Tom Dina.s.s will go,” said Joe. ”You can't leave us in the lurch like this.”
”'Course not: it's his gammon,” cried a man at the opening into the shed-like place. ”You'll go, mate.”
”Ay, he'll go,” rose in chorus.
”No, he won't,” said Dina.s.s, angrily. ”I get five-and-twenty s.h.i.+lling a week for working here, not for going to chuck away my life.”
”Gahn!” shouted a man. ”Your life aren't worth more nor no one else's.
Who are you?”
”Never you mind who I am,” growled Dina.s.s, ”I aren't going to chuck away my life, and so I tell you.”
”Who wants you to chuck away your life? Go on down, like a man,” said the engineer.
”You go yourself; I'll take care of the engines,” cried Dina.s.s.
”That will do,” said Gwyn, quietly. ”Let us have candles, please, quick.”
”Oh, you're not going down alone, young gen'lemen,” said the man at the doorway who had spoken the most. ”Some on us'll go with you if he won't, but the guv'nors made him second like to Master Hardock, and he ought to go, and he will, too, or we'll make him.”
”Oh, will you?” cried Dina.s.s, fiercely; ”and how will you make me?”
”Why, if you don't go down like a man along with the young masters, we'll tie you neck and crop, and stuff you in the skep, and two more of us'll come, too, and make you go first. What do you say to that?”
”Say you daren't,” cried Dina.s.s.
”What do you say, lads?” cried the man.
”Oh, we'll make him go,” came in chorus.
By this time, as Dina.s.s stood there angry and defiant, the engineer had produced a candle-box and lit a couple of lanthorns, when Gwyn and Joe each took one, and stepped into the empty skep, followed by Grip, who curled up by their feet.
”Can't go like that, young gents. Them caps won't do. Here, come out.
Who'll lend young masters hats?”
A couple of the strong leathern hats were eagerly offered, but only one would fit, and a fresh selection had to be made.