"What have you got to say for yourself?" demanded the elder man, at last.
"Do you call yourself a man?"

"I don't call myself anything," said the puzzled Mr. Carter. "Perhaps
you're mistaking me for somebody else."

"Didn't I tell you," said the younger man, turning to the other--"didn't
I tell you he'd say that?"

"He can say what he likes," said the other, "but we've got him now. If
he gets away from me he'll be cleverer than what he thinks he is."

"What are we to do with him now we've got him?" inquired his son.

The elder man clenched a huge fist and eyed Mr. Carter savagely. "If I
was just considering myself," he said, "I should hammer him till I was
tired and then chuck him into the sea."

His son nodded. "That wouldn't do Nancy much good, though," he remarked.

"I want to do everything for the best," said the other, "and I s'pose the
right and proper thing to do is to take him by the scruff of his neck and
run him along to Nancy."

"You try it," said Mr. Carter, hotly. "Who is Nancy?"

The other growled, and was about to aim a blow at him when his son threw
himself upon him and besought him to be calm.