“Here.”
“Con Cogan!” said the whip.
“Yes,” replied Con.
“Is this the tree or not.”
“It is.”
“Well, then, sir,” said Billy, “I’m not wishin’ to be disrespectful, but is the chap in the ould tree behind you, or is he not?”
“He is,” replied Mr Fanshawe.
“That’s all right,” said the whip, buttoning his coat and approaching the tree. “It’s worse than tacklin’ a badger in a barrel, but I’ll do it.”
“Stop,” said Mr Fanshawe.
“Who’s goin’ to stop me?” enquired Billy, the blaze lighting up again in his eyes.