noon
Kit tore his hand on a sharp corner , but persisted while the blood ran down his fingers and his wet clothes stuck to his skin . The others supported him well and he only stopped for breath and to wipe from his eyes the water that trickled off his soaked hat . The loaded cart , ploughing through the mire , met the other going back ; the men at the quarry kept him supplied , and when he had made a foundation the bank began to rise . For all that , the beck rose almost as fast , and at noon they had not gained much on the flood . Kit was doubtful , but on the whole thought it prudent to let the men stop . They had worked hard and could not keep it up without a rest . When they collected with their dinner cans under a dripping hedge , one remarked : `` Mayhappen we 'd better wait for Osborn to send cold meat and ale .