"Not just yet; but after you have thought of this thing for three or five years in the State prison, you may come to the conclusion that the Sunday school is not a bad institution for a fellow like you. If you had attended one, and given heed to its instructions, you would feel a good deal better than you do now."
"I say, Dory, can't we fix this thing up now?" asked Angy.
"Certainly we can; and that is just what we are going to do," replied Dory cheerfully. "I am only waiting a little while to rest. Then we will fix it up."
"You are a good fellow, or you could not have got the upper hands of me."
"Then you must be a good fellow, or you could not have rendered me the same service."
"I don't think you understand me," continued Angy uneasily. "I suppose you like money, if you do go to Sunday school."
"I don't object to money: at least, I have no grudge against it."
"That's sensible; and I will give you a thousand dollars in cash on the spot, if you will go home without me. Just untie my arms, and let me pull off to the schooner, and it will be all right. You can go on the biggest temperance spree you ever heard of on that sum," said Angy earnestly.
"Spot cash?"
"Spot cash."