"What do you mean by that?" demanded Jack, in a more angry tone. "Didn't I tell you yesterday that I wanted my commission?"
"And I say you can have it out of the ten shillings. I say we cry quits, and when you've paid me up the rest of the money you owe me, I'll never have any more to do with racing and betting as long as I live."
"Don't be a fool, Tom," said the other, in a changed tone. "You shall have your money right enough, and I'll make you a present of what I usually charge for commission. Suppose we go into the music-hall just below here, and there we can settle up?"
"Can't we do it here?" said Tom sulkily. "I want to get back and write a letter before I go to bed."
"Oh, blow the letter, that can wait. We've never been to a music-hall, and it would be a shame not to go to-night."
"Oh, very well, then, we'll go," said Tom, who would have been ready to go anywhere for the chance of getting some money just then.
So they went to the brilliantly-lighted hall, and it was not wonderful that the country lad should be so dazzled with the music and singing, and all that went on, as to well-nigh forget the special object for which they had come. His companion hoped he would altogether forget it, and when an hour had passed and Tom was still listening in rapt admiration to the music, his companion thought he might safely slip out and leave Tom to go home by himself.
But Tom was on the alert as soon as Jack rose from his seat, and rose too. "Are you going now?" he asked. "Let's have our settlement first," he added, "or there will be no end of a row over those gloves I told you about."
"Oh, bother the gloves," muttered Jack as he sat down again. "You're a sharper, Tom," he added, by way of flattering Tom, for he had no intention of letting him slip through his fingers without making a little more profit out of him, and to do this in the future it would be better to let him have some of the money that had been won by means of the ten shillings. So as they sat down again, he pulled a handful of silver out of his pocket. "Will a pound do for to-night?" he asked, in a tone of grand indifference, as though pounds were as plentiful as blackberries in autumn.
Tom's eyes sparkled at the sight of so much money. "Yes, that will do," he said in a tone of eagerness, thankful for the chance of getting it.