"How did you know it was me?" he cried.
"By your voice," was the reply; and the matches were found at last.
"But before that?"
"I expected you. Why didn't you go on sitting there with your back to the door?"
"You saw me!" cried Hunt, coming in.
"I saw your tracks. Hullo! Be good enough to step outside again."
"I've come to talk to you——"
"Quite so; but we'll talk outside."
And Hunt had to go with what grace he might. Jack followed with a couple of camp-stools, pulled the door to, sat down on one of the stools, and motioned Hunt to the other. The great smooth face shook slowly in reply; and the moonlight showed a bulbous bruise between the eyes, which made its author frown and feel at fault.
"Yes, you may look!" said Hunt through the gap in his set teeth which was a piece of the same handiwork. "You hit hard enough, but I can hit harder where it hurts more. A fine Duke you are! Oh, yes; double your fists again—do. You won't hit me this time. There's no one looking on!"