"Stop, stop!" cried the thief. "And half of my share you shall have."
"Nay," cried the man. "I think I'll go on. I'd rather have what's in your bag."
And away he galloped, riding as he never rode before.
II
The thief thought there must be something in the old man's bags; so with his big rusty knife he chopped them into rags. But no money did he find, for the silly old man was not so silly as he seemed. His money was in his pocket.
The old man rode on to his landlord's home and paid his rent. Then he opened the thief's bag, which was glorious to behold. There were five hundred pounds in gold and silver.
"Where did you get the silver?" asked the landlord. "And where did you get the gold?"