"When you are driven against the ropes, 'hit out' is the old rule of Fistiana and common sense. It is an extreme bore: all the more reason for showing such an ugly front, as to give people no chance of its happening again. Nothing so dangerous as half-measures, Headley. 'Resist the devil, and he will flee from you,' your creed says. Mine only translates it into practice."
"I have no liking for half-measures myself."
"Did you ever," said Tom, "hear the story of the two Sandhurst broom-squires?"
"Broomsquires?"
"So we call, in Berkshire, squatters on the moor who live by tying heath into brooms. Two of them met in Reading market once, and fell out:—
"'How ever do you manage to sell your brooms for three halfpence? I steals the heth, and I steals the binds, and I steals the handles: and yet I can't afoord to sell 'em under twopence.'
"Ah, but you see,' says the other, 'I steals mine ready made.'
"Moral—If you're going to do a thing, do it outright."
That very evening, Tom came in again.
"Well; I've been to Trebooze."