etter, that your hands are cold, or
your hand aches with holdin' a pullin' horse, and you'll thank him to
correct any inadvertencies--you needn't call them errors, you know.'

'But where's the use of it?' exclaimed Sponge; 'it'll do us no good, you
know, praisin' Puff's pack, or himself, or anything about him.'

'That's just the point,' said Jack, 'that's just the point. I can make it
answer both our purposes,' said he, with a nudge of the elbow, and an
inside-out squint of his eyes.

'Oh, that's another matter,' replied our friend; 'if we can turn the thing
to account, well and good--I'm your man for a shy.'

'We _can_ turn it to account,' rejoined Jack; 'we _can_ turn it to
account--at least _I_ can; but then you must do it. He wouldn't take it as
any compliment from me. It's the stranger that sees all things in their
true lights. D'ye understand?' asked he eagerly.

'I twig,' replied Sponge.

'You write the account,' continued Jack, 'and I'll manage the rest.'

'You must help me,' observed Sponge.

'Certainly,' replied Jack; 'we'll do it together, and go halves in the
plunder.'

'Humph,' mused Sponge: 'halves,' said he to himself. 'And what will you
give me for my half?' asked he.

'Give you!' exclaimed Jack, brightening up. 'Give you! Let me see,'
continued he, pretending to consider--'Puff's rich--Puff's a liberal
fellow--Puff's a conceited beggar--mix it strong,' said Jack, 'and I'll
give you ten pounds.'

'Make it twelve,' replied Sponge, after a pause.

If Jack had said twelve. Sponge would have asked fourteen.

'Couldn't,' said Jack, with a shake of the head; 'it really isn't with
(worth) the money.'

The two then rode on in silence for some little distance.

'I'll tell you what I'll do,' said Jack, spurring his horse, and trotting
up the space that the other had now shot ahead. 'I'll split the difference
with you!'

'Well, give me the sov.,' said Sponge, holding out his hand for earnest.

'Why, I haven't a sov. upon me,' replied Jack; 'but, honour bright, I'll do
what I say.'

'Give me eleven golden sovereigns for my chance,' repeated Sponge slowly,
in order that there might be no mistake.

'Eleven golden sovereigns for your chance,' repeated Jack.

'Done!' replied Sponge.

'Done!' repeated Jack.

'Let's jog on and do it at once while the thing's fresh in our minds,' said
Jack, working his horse into a trot.

Sponge did the same; and the grass-siding of Orlantire Parkwall favouring