“What you are going to get for ketching that chap,” said the man, with a grin.
“Catching what chap?” cried Waller sharply.
“Ah, you know. Why, I always sleep with my eyes open. It’s a hundred pounds for ketching that spy, as they calls him; and as he was caught in my woods I say halves.”
“You don’t know what you are talking about,” cried Waller fiercely, blustering to hide the faint qualm he felt. “Spy! Hundred pounds! Halves! Here, you had better be off before you get into a row. Your woods, indeed! What next?”
“I d’know, and don’t want to. All I know is that they are wild, and as much mine as anybody else’s. Now then, what about them halves?”
“Look here, Bunny; what have you got in your head?”
“Hidees, Master Waller. Never you mind what I have got in my head; it’s what have you got up in your room where you are always cobbling and tinkering and making things?”
“Bunny!” cried Waller, staggered for the moment out of his assurance.
“Yes; that’s me, Master Waller, and I want fifty pound. Lot of money, ar’n’t it? And I want money. You are a rich gentleman, and don’t, and ought to give me the whole hundred. But I don’t want to be grasping, because it’s you, and so I says halves.”
“But, Bunny—” cried Waller.