Fifty yards or so more, and Jimmie Dale halted.

He backed Markel up against a large tree--not over gently.
"I--I say"-- Markel's teeth were going like castanets.

"I--" "You'll oblige me by keeping your mouth shut," observed Jimmie Dale politely--and he whipped the cord of Markel's dressing gown loose and began to tie the man to the tree.

"You have many unpleasant characteristics, Markel--your voice is one of them.

Shall I repeat that I do not like you ?" He stepped to the back of the tree.