'Nothing at all; but I doubt your having the money. A week ago you were reduced to a brass token.'
'You think yourself cock of the walk, do you?' said Charles, insolently, 'because you are heir to Chimsworthy? What is Chimsworthy to Coombe Park? Come! I bet now you've naught but coppers in your pocket. Hands in and see which can make the most show.'
As he spoke, he thrust forth his palm, and Hillary heard the chink of money, and the sound of coins falling on the stones.
'If you had money at the fair-time,' said Hillary, coldly, 'all I can say is that you behaved infamously.'
'I had no money then.'
'How you have got it since, I do not know,' said Hillary.
'That is no concern of yours, Master Larry,' answered Charles, roughly. 'You will live to see me Squire at Coombe Park; and when I'm there, curse me if I don't offer you the place of game-keeper to keep off rogues. An old poacher is the best keeper.'
'You cur!' exclaimed Hillary, blazing up. 'This is my game.' He swung the dead dog about, and struck Charles on the cheek with the carcass so violently as to knock him into the hedge. 'This is my game. Your master's dog, which has been worrying and killing your father's lambs whilst you have been boozing in a tavern.'
'By George!' swore Charles, with difficulty picking himself up. 'I'll break your cursed neck, I will.'
But Larry had gone on his way by the time Charles had regained equilibrium.