"The cash on the nail."
"Paid into your hand," said Jones.
"I think I should see my way," said Brisket; "at any rate I'll come up on Saturday."
"Much better say to-morrow, or Friday."
"Can't. It's little Gogham Fair on Friday; and I always kills on Thursday."
"Saturday will be very late."
"There'll be time enough if you've got the money ready. You've spoken to old Brown, I suppose. I'll be up as soon after six on Saturday evening as I can come. If Maryanne wants to see me, she'll find me here. It won't be the first time."
Thus was it that among his enemies the happiness of Robinson's life was destroyed. Against Brisket he breathes not a word. The course was open to both of them; and if Brisket was the best horse, why, let him win!
But in what words would it be right to depict the conduct of Jones?