Page:In bad company and other stories.djvu/170

 friends, you get stolen, or come to grief, grass-feeding, and an incurable sore back!"

'Rather a mixed metaphor, if I may be allowed a friendly criticism,' said a dark-haired, quiet youngster named Weston, who had been reading for the bar 'before the gold,' as people distinguished the former and the latter days. 'I don't quite follow who lost the money, or did you or the horse suffer from the sore back?'

'Go to blazes with your special pleading,' shouted O'Donnell. Can't a man make the smallest moral reflection among ye, a lot of profligate divils, but he must be fixed to logical exactness, as if he was up for his "little go"? Ye've no poetry in ye, Weston, divil a bit. It's a fatal defect at the bar. Take my advice in time, or I wash my hands of your future prospects. And now hear me out, or I'll stop, and the secret will be buried with me.'

'Go on, Moore; you won't be the last of your line, will you?'

'How do you know, sir? None of your Saxon sneers. The O'Donnell! Ha! ye villain, I'm up to you this time. Next day, as big a ruffian as ever ye seen came up to the tent and asked me "what I meant by stealin' a poor man's 'oss." "See here now," says I, "the stealing's all the other way, it strikes me. He belongs to a friend of mine, who would never have sold him. He may have strayed and got into pound, and you may have bought him out, or you may—pardon me—have stolen him yourself."

I bought him off Jem Baggs, as got him out of Burnbank Pound," replied he doggedly.

That may be true. I think not, myself. This is what I am going to do. The horse is in my possession, and there he will remain. You can either take him, if you are man enough (and I pointed this remark with the butt of my revolver), or you can summon me before the Bench, or take this £5 note for your claim. Which will you do?" He held out his dirty paw for the fiver with a grin, as he said, "All right, you can 'ave 'im for the fiver. He ain't much in a cart, anyhow.

'Hurrah!' sung out half-a-dozen voices together. 'How glad old Fred will be to see him again. What did you do with him? Hasn't Bill Sikes re-stolen him yet?'