"I want to see you, Mr. Lynchpinne," I continued, following him, and taking position at his side.
"Who are you?" he demanded, halting, and giving me another contemptuous look.
"Don't you know me, Mr. Lynchpinne?"
"My name is not Lynchpinne."
"Lynch, then. Don't you know me?"
"No."
"Yes, you do."
"You impertinent puppy!"
"O, yes! All that's very pretty, but I want my money."
"What money? What do you mean, you saucy young cub?"