Having at last securely bound Rutley’s hands, Sam signalized the event with a broad grin.
“There, old chappie! I don’t think you will break away a second time.”
“Sure, ave ’e do, ’twill be after this bit of Arigin fir’s been splintered on his hid,” answered Smith.
Rutley made no reply. He seemed absorbed in thought, and though chagrin and disgust on his face betrayed a sense of his plight, no expression of bitterness escaped him. His dauntless, debonair spirit was still unbroken.
“I had her bound and shut up in the closet,” he muttered to himself. It was an involuntary exclamation in an undertone, and at the moment he seemed quite oblivious to his position.
“Yees did!” explosively exclaimed Smith. “The likes of yees, a dirty, thavin’ blackguard, to bind the young lady and shut her up in a closet! Sure, if I had seen yees do it, there’d be somethin’ doin’.” And Smith flourished his stick in a threatening manner.
“The sissy is no match for a fool-killer,” grinned Sam, as he wound the cord several additional turns around Rutley’s arms and body.
“Outclassed by a slip of a girl,” Rutley muttered abstractedly, and enslaved by her witchery; “surely hell hath no cunning to match her genius for strategems!”
“Indade, the divil’s imp is azey mark for the wit ave an Arigin girl, an’ be the token ave it, yees’l go back and jine yees mate with the bracelets,” said Smith ironically.
“Aunty is coming!” exclaimed Sam in a listening attitude. “We must get him out of the house at once!”