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"
"That's a lie: you carry it where _he_ did; close to your heart: I can
see it bulge: there, Job was a patient man, but his patience went at
last." With this he ran to the window and threw it open.
Hardie entreated him to be calm. "I'll give it you, Skinner," said he,
"and with pleasure, if you will give me some security that you will not
turn round, as soon as you have got it, and be my enemy."
"Enemy of a gent that pays me a thousand pounds? Nonsense! Why should I?
We are in the same boat: behave like a man, and you know you have nothing
to fear from me: but I will--not--go halves in a theft for nothing: would
_you?_ Come, how is it to be, peace or war? Will you be content with
thirteen thousand pounds that don't belong to you, not a shilling of it,
or will you go to jail a felon, and lose it every penny?"
Mr. Hardie groaned aloud, but there was no help for it. Skinner was on
sale: and _must_ be bought.
He took out two notes for five hundred pounds each, and laid them on the
table, after taking their numbers.
Skinner's eyes glistened: "Thank you, sir," said he.


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