"No!"
"Nor a third?"
"No! no!"
"My! my! my!"
"See, here! Tom! I'm the only man left to help you to do your work. Before I begin I must have the promise of half of Jerry's money. One-half, or you'll not make another drop of whisky in this cave!"
"My! my! my! my!" whined the old miser.
Simpson made no reply. He sat down on one of the benches and looked straight into the Tinker's face.
Tom continued to whimper, but he saw that Simpson was firm, so he assented to his terms.
"Can't help it."
"Now that we have begun to make terms," continued Simpson, "let me tell you what I must have of all the whisky we sell. One-fifth of the profits must be mine."