"You're cooler, I see," resumed Jinks, and then looked into the earthen pot again.
"I don't mind a trifle, by way of recompense," said Straitlace, torturing his tongue to frame the words, "if you'll only assist me in recovering my apprentice."
"Rayther sensible that," answered Jinks tauntingly; but still looked into the empty pot.
Straitlace overcame his own master-passion for the instant, and placed a half-crown beside the empty drinking cup; but Jinks instantly pushed it off the barrel, into the floor, in contempt. Straitlace felt the blood rush to his neck and face, but once more struggled with his own reluctance, took up the half-crown, and laid down a half-sovereign in its stead.
"Sensible,—very!" observed Jinks, slowly; and then suddenly starting up, said, "Now, Mister Jonas Straitlace, what will you give to have this stray dog of yours put quietly into your hands, muzzled and collared, so that you may take him home safely?"
"Isn't that enough?" said the other leeringly.
"Two whole sovereigns into my hands to-morrow morning at seven,—here,—at the bottom of the steps,—and you have him. Otherwise, there's your road, Mister Jonas Straitlace," returned Jinks, and pointed to the stairs.
The saddler saw he was in a most disadvantageous position for making a choice, and hesitated.
"I've other clients, and have no time to fool away upon you," rejoined Jinks: "speak the word! yes or no," and moved towards the steps.