“You can’t prove it,” Mr Thomas said, beginning to grin.
“In that case, you’ll get the half dollar,” Brant said, putting a half a crown on the table. “Fair enough, isn’t it?”
Mr Thomas hesitated, then nodded his head. “Okay, cocky, prove it.”
Brant produced a soiled ten-shilling note. “I’ll have another bet with you,” he said, his lips curling into a smile, but his eyes like granite. “I bet you don’t know how much money you have in your trousers’ pocket.”
Mr Thomas blinked at him “Wot’s that got ter do with it?”
“If you can tell me to the exact penny how much you have in your pocket, I’ll give you this ten bob.”
“I can do that orl right,” Mr Thomas returned, automatically moving his hands to his pockets.
“No… don’t do that. Tell me, without looking, exactly how much you have.”
Mr Thomas scratched his head, suddenly embarrassed.
“Well,” he said slowly, “I reckon I’ve got four bob.”