Let's get back." "No, no; let me try," I cried eagerly.
"Don't I tell you it's of no use," he said angrily.

"Here, I'll go again and show you.

Hold on tight, Big." "Yes, I'm holding," came from deep down in Bigley's chest, and Bob made another attempt, scrambling up over my back and on to my shoulders, and ending in his struggles by giving me so severe a kick on the head that I leaped away, leaving him hanging by his hands, so that when he relaxed his hold he came down in a sitting position, with so hard a bump upon the stones that he seemed to bounce up again in a fit of fury to begin stamping about with rage and pain.
"Oh--oh--oh!" he gasped.

"You did that on purpose." "Oh, I say, you do make me laugh," spluttered out Bigley, who held on tightly to the rope to keep it strained.
"Yes, I'll make you laugh," cried Bob, flying at him and punching away, while Bigley held on by the rope, and the more Bob punched the more he laughed.
"Oh, I say, don't," he panted.

"You hurt." "I mean to hurt," cried Bob.