“But if he is not at this house, where is he?” asked Halberd.
“Tell us where to find him and we will burden you with wealth,” Pike added, grandly.
The landlord began to be certain they were crazy. “How should I know who it is you seek?” he asked.
“Water! fetch me water!” roared Gallows, from the adjoining room.
“What disturbance is this?” Halberd wanted to know. He strode to the door and looked in at the mountain of meat, propped up in bed, poulticed and patched past all semblance to himself. “Friend,” Halberd said to him, boldly, “your voice needs bleeding.”
“Ha!” bellowed Gallows, “you be a fool and I be the fool-killer! Let me get——Howtch!” He made this latter exclamation on attempting to rise from his lair.
Halberd and Pike both fell to the rear a step, at the awful voice of the brute, but no sooner did they see him sink helplessly down on the couch than they laughed in eloquent scorn.
“I should enjoy nothing better than to slay something large, before dinner,” little Pike remarked.
“Tut. This is my recreation,” said Halberd. “Come forth, friend, till I warm some cold steel in your belly.”
“Leave be!” commanded the landlord, coming forward to shut the door between the rooms, and flapping his apron at the belligerent beef-eaters. “Let me know your wants, if you have them, and if not, be off about your business.”