“Yes, you have.”
“No, I haven’t. Come, my boy, don’t make a fool of yourself. Put that pistol down and come with me.”
“Not likely! What do you take me for? Come, your money or your life!”
“I haven’t got any money, I tell you.”
“Take off your coat, then!”
“I sha’n’t!”
“Take off your coat, and throw it on the ground.”
“One!”
“Two!”
Again the pistol was pointed straight at Jones’s head. He looked round. It was a lonely place. The farm lay right back across the fields, and he daren’t shout, so he didn’t know what to do. He wished he had brought somebody with him; but it had been agreed he should go alone; because, if several people had gone, the boy’s suspicions would have been aroused, and he wouldn’t have come near enough to be caught perhaps.