"Ach, you young tevil my machine to sdeal!" he cried, tumbling into the
car.
"You shouldn't have refused to take me with you," said Tinker,
preparing to slip over the other side on to anyone's head.
"What haf you broke? What haf you broke?" cried Herr Schlugst, looking
round at the instruments with a practised eye, and seeing them unharmed.
"Nothing. What should I break anything for?" said Tinker scornfully.
"No; dere is nodings broke, schoundrel. But vere--vere is mine von
tousand pound? I ask you! Vare is mine von tousand pound! You haf
ruined me! Ruined me!"
"Oh, that's all right!" said Tinker. "I had a passenger who paid his
fare. Here are two thousand pounds." And he gave him two of the notes.
Herr Schlugst opened his mouth and stared at the notes, "Doo tousand
pound! Doo tousand pound!" he muttered thickly. "You vas von
vonder-child! Von vonder-child!"
Tinker bade him good-bye, and slipped out of the car, leaving him to
fly to some smooth place in the environs, where he could dismantle his
machine. Sir Tancred was too thankful for Tinker's safety to be very
angry with him: and they descended the tower surrounded by gendarmes,
who were put to it to preserve Tinker from the embraces of excited
persons of either sex.
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