"Then going at fifty—at fifty! Going! Going! Gone, b'gad! Sold to the knowing young cove in the neckcloth."
Now, at the repetition of this word, Barnabas began to frown.
"And b'gad!" exclaimed the Captain, stepping down from the bucket, "a devilish bad bargain he's got, too."
"That, sir, remains to be seen," said Barnabas, shortly.
"Why, what do you mean to do with the brute?"
"Ride him."
"Do you, b'gad?"
"I do."
"Lay you ten guineas you don't sit him ten minutes."
"Done!" said Barnabas, buttoning up his coat.