A Man in the Open

by Roger Pocock

"Can't do it," said Pete, "if I died first he'd have the joke on me."

"Wouldn't you like a hot rum?"

Pete staggered to his feet. "I'd go for that," he sighed, "just like one man."

So he took my arm, and I helped him along the road.

"She burned them riggings," he said.

"Mother?"

"Yes. Brooke came inspecting them riggings, so mother burned 'em."

"Won't that be rather awkward?"

"Some. You see, mum, Bolt paid me four hundred and five dollars cash, so I come to return him the money."

I didn't quite understand. "You see, Pete," I suggested, "you and Brooke are the owners. Don't you owe half to yourself and half to Brooke?"