“It's us!” put in two voices at once.

“What do you want?”

“It's a bit of a disthurbance, Mister Madden, that's——”

“Zat Smeeth,” put in a pinched French accent excitedly, “he says zare ees no mate, zat you——”

“Be quiet, Dashalong; th' gintilman can't understhand yer brogue. Smith siz ye have no authority by rights; that we should run things as we plaze; that th' bhoys should have all they want to ate; that we should have rum with aitch male, sor.”

“And have you two fellows come to get these things?” inquired Leonard in a hard voice.

“No, no, no,” trilled out Deschaillon. “Eem-possible!”

“We sthrolled around to till ye, and bide wid ye a bit, and whiniver th' romp starts, me and Dash here ar-re going to swing partners, eh, Dash?”

“Oh, beg pardon,” apologized Leonard frankly, “but I had just been warned and I was looking for trouble—”

“Thot's all r-right, Misther Madden. We