"No," says Bentley, "I'll lay you twenty, it refers to young Tawnish."
"Done!" I nodded, and spreading out the paper I read (with no little difficulty) as follows:
Dear Dick and Bentley,
Come round and see me at once, for the devil anoint me if I ever heard tell the like on't, and more especially after the exhibition of a week ago. To my mind, 'tis but a cloak to mask his cowardice, as you will both doubtless agree when you shall have read this note.
Yours,
Jack.
"Well, but where's his meaning? 'Tis ever Jack's way to forget the very kernel of news," grumbled Bentley.
"Pooh! 'tis plain enough," says I, "he means Raikes; any but a fool would know that."
"Lay you fifty it's Tawnish," says Bentley, in his stubborn way.
"Done!" says I.