"I'm disappointed in you, Dick," said he.
"How's that?" returned Dick in a tone of bravado, guessing what Hal meant.
"I didn't think you were the sort of boy to encourage other boys in stealing eggs for you to suck," said Hal. "It seems to me, I'd rather steal myself than get another boy to do it for me. You see, it's very mean to put your dirty work upon another fellow, isn't it?"
"I paid him fair," said Dick.
Hal considered a minute. This line of argument was rather difficult to answer, and yet Hal's sense of right and wrong told him it was false.
"You'd no right to pay him for dishonesty," said he; "so no payment could be fair."
"I don't know so much about that," returned Dick stoutly. "If a fellow's fool enough to sell his soul for sixpence, that's his own look out. It's always fair to pay a fellow what he'll take."
"That's not the way to look at it at all," said Hal. "A fellow's soul is worth a great deal more than any one can pay, and if he loses it, he's done for outright. And whoever gets it from him, is his murderer for ever," added Hal quite solemnly. "The Bible tells you that."
"Chapter the one hundredth, verse the millionth!" sang out Dick in a mocking tone.
"Well, I must be getting home," said Hal. "I'm sorry, for I liked you at the first. And I thought that when I came to be Squire—if ever I do—you would be one of my best tenants, and help me to make the Manor prosperous. You see, a Squire wouldn't be able to do much good if all his tenants were like that, and didn't care a pin about each other's souls."