Hubert felt a trifle wild. He was capable of that feeling now and then. As they were advancing in one direction, two gentlemen, a tall and a short one, were advancing towards them in the other. They were coming to close quarters. Hubert was conscious that the manager's outspoken observations could not be altogether inaudible to the approaching strangers. So he rode as high a horse as he conveniently could.
"As for your bill, I will see it hanged first. As for your insolence, I will report it to your employers. As for myself, I shall only be too glad to go at once."
One of the approaching strangers--the tall one--suddenly standing still, placed himself in front of Hubert in such a way as to bar his progress. With the finger tips of his right hand he tapped him lightly on the chest.
"Not just at once, dear Buxton, not just at once. Not before you have said a few words to me."
"And to me," said the short man, who stood beside his taller companion. Hubert looked from one to the other.
"And pray who may you be?" he inquired.
"You do not know me?" asked the big stranger.
"Nor me?" echoed the little one.
"But it does not matter. Perhaps you have a bad memory, my dear Buxton."
The big man's manner was affable. He turned to the manager. "You must excuse us for one moment, we have just a word to say to our friend Buxton. Here is our little private sitting-room most convenient--just a word."