"Old Un," said he, shaking his finger, "if ye give me any more of it—off t' bed I take ye without any tea at all!" The Old Un, cowering beneath that portentous finger, swore plaintively and promptly subsided.
"And now," said Ravenslee, thrusting the money into Joe's reluctant hand, "when I make a bargain, I generally keep it. I wish all my money had been spent to such good purpose."
"What about me?" whined the old man humbly, "don't I get none, Joe-lad?"
"Not a cent, you old rasper!"
"Blimy, Guv, you won't forget a old cove as 'ud shed 'is best blood for ye?"
"The Guv'nor don't want yer blood, old skin-and-bones. And now, come on, sir—"
"Stay a minute, Joe, the Old Un generally keeps time for us when we spar rounds."
"That I do, Guv," cried the old man, "an' give ye advice worth its weight in solid gold; you owe me a lot, s' 'elp me."
"About how much?"
"Well, Guv, I ain't got me ledger-book 'andy, but roughly speakin' I should say about five or six 'undred dollars. But seein' you 's you an' I'm me—a old man true-'earted as never crossed nobody—let's say—fifteen dollars."