"Well, wot yer call a fair division, if that's not one?" said the man shortly.
"If it was left to me to decide, I would give you half, to start with. It was your show. You did most of the work. We were more like wages men; so at the very least you should get half. Then I'd divide the other half among the rest of us in equal shares."
"Sandy's right," broke in Joe. "As far as I'm concerned, Harry'll have the lot. I'd like him to take my whack, anyway, because——"
"No, yer don't, Joe. I know wot yer goin' ter say. Think I'm mean ernuff ter take pay fer shootin' a jolly shark?"
"Oh—I—didn't—mean—it—just——"
"Joe meant it as a mark of gratitude, Harry. I think my way's best. Whatcher say?"
"Agreed!" chorus the four.
"Joe, me mahn," said Denny a little while later, as he and Blain were riding together, "cud ye tell me phwat me quarter ov a half ov th' gowld'll come to?"
"Lemme see, seventy ounces; half o' that, thirty-five; quarter of thirty-five is eight an' three-quarter ounces: yes, your share is eight an' three-quarters, Denny."
"Give it in pounds, plaase, Joe."