'Chinnock,' he began, with an attempt to seem casual and careless, 'we're going to be attacked by Red Indians again to-night.'
Chinnock touched a sandy forelock, as he raised his red grinning face.
'Lor', sir, be you indeed? Well, you young genl'men du have rare goings on down in the paddock, that you du.'
'It's—it's real Red Indians this time, Chinnock—B—black Bogallalas!'
Chinnock had deliberately moved to the harness-room, and Tinling had to repeat his information.
'Ah, indeed, sir! Red Injians? Well, to think o' that!' he said cheerfully, as if he was humouring some rather childish remark.
'But we shall want every available man; do you think you can spare time to come and help?'
''Bout what time, sir?' said Chinnock.
'About nine—half-past eight, say. Do try.'
'Can't come as late as that, nohow, sir. That's my supper-hour, that is. If the mistress don't want the carriage to-day, I dessay I could step down 'bout five for half-an-hour or so, if that would suit.'