the next flood may do. We had an awkward job to strengthen the bank and
I'm not going to have it cut."

"Noo, Kit, dinna spoil sport," the old huntsman urged. "It's none a trick
for a canny lad to cheat the hounds."

"Put terrier in an' niver mind him!" shouted another, and there were
cries of approval.

"Stop digging, Tom," Askew said with quiet firmness. "Pick up the dog."

"We are wasting time," Thorn remarked. "I don't like bargaining; you had
better state your price."

Grace, looking on across the broken hedge, sympathized with the farmer.
For one thing, she wanted the otter to escape; besides, she approved the
man's resolute quietness. He had pluck, since it was plain that he was
taking an unpopular line, and he used some self-control, because Thorn's
tone was strongly provocative. In fact, she thought Thorn was not at his
best; he was not entitled to suggest that the other was trying to extort
as much money as he could.

"No more do I like bargaining," Askew replied. "There will be no digging
here. You have smashed the hedge, and that's enough. Call off your dogs."

"So you mean to spoil sport, even if the damage costs you nothing? I know
your kind; it's getting common."

"Oh, no," said Askew. "I won't have the bank cut down, but that is all.
If you like, you can look for another otter on our part of the stream."