"Hullo," said the Duke again.
"What the devil do you want?" demanded Hal with studied ferocity.
"What have you got?" asked the Duke obligingly.
"Look here, my friend," said Hal, rising and fixing his eye-glass with a terrible calm, "I'm not in the habit of receiving visitors over the garden wall——"
"Talking about the militia," said the Duke easily, "how is this Territorial scheme going to affect you?"
"My friend——" began Hal.
"He calls me his friend," the young man on the wall meditated aloud, "he is ominously polite: he rises from his chair: he is going to begin—help!"
He raised his voice and kept his eye on the conservatory door of 66.
"What's wrong?" inquired Hank's voice from the house.
"Come quickly!" called the Duke extravagantly nervous, "here's a young gentleman, a stout young gentleman in the military line of business, who is taking off his coat to me."