"I said so," cried Mortimer. "Now perhaps you'll apologize, Tommy."
"What I want to know," I interrupted, "is why you didn't clear out when you heard us on the bank."
The duke eyed me contemptuously.
"And 'ave you raisin' the 'ole bloomin' country on me. I don't think!"
"No, no," broke in Mortimer; "his grace is a sound tactician. If he could have cut off with the boat and left us here, he'd have been in clover."
"As it is," I observed, "he's in the soup."
"Still, it wasn't much good your making for the other side of the island," went on Mortimer, addressing our guest. "You couldn't get off that way."
"Ho, couldn't I?" remarked the duke, with some scorn. "If I'd 'a' got to the bank fust you'd 'ave know'd all about that. It'd take six o' your sort to ketch me in the water."
Tommy brought his hand down on the table with a sudden bang that made us all jump.
"By Jove," he cried, "here's the very man we want! Listen here, Whiskers. Suppose we find a way of settling this little business without handing you over to the police, eh?"