Why, if they see you, they'll run for their lives." He spoke with a convicting quietness.
Mr.Lambert doubled up over the parapet in a gasping anguish.
"You're not going to leave here till you give me a letter for your clerk, telling him to hand over Sir Tancred Beauleigh's promissory note," said Tinker.
Mr.Lambert rejected the suggestion in extravagant language.
"You bandy words with me!" cried the Baron Hildebrand Anne of Ardrochan.

"Lambert of London, beware! Think, rash rogue, on your grinders! Hans and Jorgan, prepare the red-hot pincers! You have a quarter of an hour to reflect, Lambert." He flung himself off his pony, tethered it, strode down to the spring which trickled out of the hillside some forty yards away, and came back bearing a big jug full of water.
Mr.Lambert watched him in a bursting fury, at whiles scanning the empty hills with a raging eye.

Suddenly light dawned on him: "Are you the boy who stole the flying-machine ?" he cried.
"You mind your own business!" said Tinker tartly; it was his cherished belief that he had borrowed the flying-machine.
Mr.Lambert understood at last with whom he had to deal; and the knowledge was not cheering.

His angry stomach clamoured at him to come to terms, but his greed was still too strong for it.
"The time is up, Lambert of London!" said Tinker presently, very sternly.

"Will you ransom your base carcase ?" The money-lender turned his back on him with a lofty dignity.
"Ha! ha! Hunger shall tame that proud spirit!" said the Baron of Ardrochan.
Suddenly the money-lender heard the door opened, and he dashed for the ladder.