'"Come—you beat about the bush—let's hear your mind."
'"Well, Sir, 'tis in my letter," says he.
'"Ah, Glascock," says he, "that's a threatening letter. I did not think you'd serve me so. Well, needs must when the devil drives." And he laughed again, and shrugs up his shoulders, and says he, putting his hand in his pocket, "there's sixty pounds left; 'tis all I have; come, be modest—what do you say?"
'"You got a lot of gold off Mr. Beauclerc," says Glascock.
'"Not a doit more than I wanted," says he, laughing again. "And who, pray, had a better right—did not I murder him?"
'His talk and his laughing frightened me more and more.
'"Well, I stood to you then, Sir; didn't I?" says Glascock.
'"Heart of oak, Sir—true as steel; and now, how much do you want? Remember, 'tis all I have—and I out at elbows; and here's my friend Irons, too—eh?"
'"I want nothing, and I'll take nothing," says I; "not a shilling—not a half-penny." You see there was something told me no good would come of it, and I was frightened besides.
'"What! you won't go in for a share, Irons?" says he.