Butts. (Dropping under the table.) Murder! put up that infernal machine. Help, murder!
Harry. Shut up! If you speak again you’re a dead man. Come out here! (Butts obeys.) Now take a seat, and make yourself comfortable.
Butts. (Sitting L.) Comfortable?
Harry. The tables are turned, hey, Butts?
Butts. Oh, you villain, you villain! But you can’t escape me; I’m an officer of the law; never known to take a bribe. I believe in justice, and justice will surely overtake you, John Robinson.
Harry. I sincerely hope I shall some day have justice.
Butts. The hemp has grown, the rope twisted, that will twist your little neck, John Robinson.
Harry. So you are Butts the thief-taker, are you? Well, I’m glad to meet you. I’ve a little business with you. Butts, an officer of the law, who believes in justice, and yet turned his only son out of doors.
Butts. How! What do you know about my son?
Harry. I know that he is dead.