Part 8 (1/2)
”I've fastened my handkerchief to the stump of a bush.”
”That's right.”
”I say!”
”Well?”
”How shall we get Mr Manners up when they do come?”
”Push and pull,” said Will.
”But he's awfully heavy.”
”Oh, I know; but we shall manage. I say, I wonder where his paint-box and things are. Perhaps they all went down with him.”
”Not they,” said Josh, as his foot kicked against something. ”They are all up here. I've got them. Isn't he awake yet?”
”No--yes--I say, Mr Manners, are you better?”
”I--Where am I?--Oh, yes, I remember. Better? I think so. What are you doing here?”
”Came to find you, and--”
From above there came a shout.
”Hallo!” said Will. ”That's Josh found then.”
CHAPTER SEVEN.
THE RESCUE.
”That you, boys?” came from somewhere far above, out of the darkness, and it was Josh who answered, while Will said in a low tone:
”I say, Mr Manners, I am glad. Now don't you think you could get up?
It's father and Mr Carlile.”
The artist made a brave attempt.
”I could stand on one leg,” he said, ”but that's about all I'm good for.
My ankle gives way at once.”
”Then we must just wait,” said Will. ”That's the only thing to do. It was my father who called. Say, Jos.h.!.+”
”Hallo!”
”That you, my boy?” came from above.
”Yes, father.”