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"How much," he said, "is seven hundred bushels of wheat at six shillings?" Joe, who was looked upon as the brainy one of our family, took down his slate with a hint of scholarly ostentation. "What did y' say, Dad seven 'undred BAGS?" "Bushels! "Seven 'un-dered bush-els-of wheat WHEAT was it, Dad?" "Yes, WHEAT!" "Wheat at...At WHAT, Dad?" "Six shillings a bushel." "Six shil-lings-a.... A, Dad?
"Allchin thinks the goodwill can be had for about a 'undred, sir; and the rent, it's only eighty pounds " "Shop and house?" "Yes, sir; so Allchin says. It isn't much of a 'ouse, of course." "What profits could be made, do you suppose, by an energetic man?" "When Boxon began, sir," replied Mrs. Hopper, with growing animation, "he used to make so Allchin says a good five or six 'undred a year.
They didn't leave 'im alone till they knew as much about it as he could tell 'em, and they both of 'em told 'im that if he took a reward of thirty pounds for it, instead of selling it for a 'undred, he was a bigger fool than he looked. "I shall turn it over in my mind," ses Sam, sucking 'is teeth. "When I want your advice I'll ask you for it."
"Get him?" asked the Sapper. "Dunno, sir," answered the sniper, his eye still fixed to the telescope. "Three 'undred yards, and 'e ducked like 'ell. It wasn't far off 'is nibs, but one can't tell for sure." He got down and stretched himself. "I've waited 'alf an 'our for the perisher, too, without no breakfast."
"We wasn't thinking of you," ses Ginger; "we was thinking of ourselves." "You!" ses Sam, with a bit of a start. "Wot's it got to do with you?" "Our share'll be bigger, that's all," ses Ginger. "Much bigger," ses Peter. "I couldn't dream of letting it go at thirty. It's chucking money away. Why, we might get two 'undred for it. Who knows?"
Crimson glows upon which tired eyes rested unthinking, uncaring, the mind worn under the ceaseless repetition: "When will we stop? Why don't they let us fight it out? God, we'd make a mess of him anyhow." Then someone would address no one in particular: "Wonder 'ow many we 'ave left?" "Gawd knows. About a 'undred an' fifty." "See 'im toppling our lads out at Verbequie?" "Yes.
"Well!" said old Pearse, "you shall have five 'undred of my money, if it's only to learn what yu're made of. Wheel me in!" Zachary wheeled him into the house, but soon came back. "The old man's cheque for five hundred pounds!" he said, holding it up. "Mr. Treffry, give me another, and you shall have a third of the profits." I expected Dan to give a point-blank refusal.
You've made a pretty mess of it with your cleverness." "Wonderful old gentleman, ain't he?" said the discomfited Mr. Smith. "Fancy 'im getting the better o' me. Fancy me being 'ad. I took it all in as innercent as you please." "Ah, you're a clever fellow, you are," said Mr. Kybird, bitterly. "'Ere's Amelia lost young Nugent and 'is five 'undred all through you.
I've seen him polish off four pounds of steak and mealy potatoes and then look round kind of wolfish, as much as to ask when dinner was going to begin! That's the kind of a lad 'e was till this very morning. 'E would have out-swallowed this 'ere O'Dowd without turning a hair, as a relish before 'is tea! I'd got a couple of 'undred dollars on 'im, and thought myself lucky to get the odds. And now "
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