"You'd earn a five-dollar bill."
"Five dollars—for knockin' you down, sir?"
"Every time!" nodded Ravenslee.
"But Lord, sir—"
"Shut up, Joe, shut up," snarled the Old Un, hopping out of the armchair. "Don't gape like a perishin' fish; come on up-stairs an' knock the Guv'nor down like 'e tells ye—an' 'arves on the money, mind; it was me as taught ye all you know or ever will, so 'arves on the money, Joe, 'arves on the money. Come on, Joe—d'j 'ear?"
"Crumbs!" said Joe.
"Look at 'im. Guv—look at 'im!" shrieked the old man, dancing to and fro in his impatience, "'ere's a chance for 'im to earn a pore old cove a bit o' 'bacca money, an', what's better still, t' show a pore old fightin' man a bit o' real sport—an' there 'e stands, staring like a perishing pork pig! Blimy, Guv, get behind an' 'elp me to shove 'im up-stairs."
"But, crikey, sir!" said Joe, "five dollars every time I—"
"Yus, yus, you bloomin' hadjective—two dollars fifty for each of us! 'Urry up, oh, 'urry up afore 'e changes 'is mind an' begins to 'edge."
So Joe follows his "Guv'nor" and the Old Un up a flight of stairs and into a large chamber fitted as a gymnasium, where are four roped and padded posts socketed into the floor; close by is a high-backed armchair in which the Old Un seats himself with an air of heavy portent.