He increased the pressure on Lambert's arms.
"Just to remind you what we've been fighting about, and that I'm not your slave, you call me Mr. Morton, or George, just as if I was about as good as you."
Lambert smiled broadly.
"Will you kindly let me go—George?"
George sprang up, grinning.
"How you feel, Mr. Lam——" He caught himself—"Mr. Planter?"
Lambert struggled to his feet.
"Quite unwell, thanks. I'm sorry you made such a damned fool of yourself this afternoon. We might have had some pretty useful times boxing together."
"I'd just as leave tell you," George said, glancing away, "that I never intended to say it. I didn't realize it myself until it was scared out of me."
Lambert put on his coat.