Mr. Bankes put his hand into his trousers pocket, and when he pulled it out it was full of money. "Look here, it seems that I've had a hand in this little scrape, though I'd no more idea you'd swallow every word of what I said than I had of flying. You're about as fine a bunch of greens as ever I encountered, and that's the truth. But, anyhow, I had a hand, and as I'm a partner in the spree I'm not going to sort you all the kicks and collar all the halfpence. And I tell you"--Mr. Bankes raised his voice to a very loud key, as though Bailey was arguing the point instead of sitting perfectly still--"I tell you that for a boy like you to cut and run with the sum of one and fivepence in his pocket is a thing I'm not going to stand. No, not on any account, so hold out your hand, you leather-headed noodle, and pocket this." Bertie held out his hand, Mr. Bankes counted into it five separate sovereigns. "Now sling your hook!" Before Bertie had a chance to thank him, or even to realize the sudden windfall he had encountered, Mr. Bankes had caught hold of him, lifted him bodily from his seat, and placed him on the road. Mary Anne had started, and the trap was flying past the Cardinal Wolsey, on the Hampton Road. Left standing there, with the five sovereigns tightly grasped in his palm, Bailey decided that Mr. Bankes had rather a sudden way of doing things. He remained motionless a minute watching the receding trap. Perhaps he expected, perhaps he hoped, that Mr. Bankes would look round and wave him a parting greeting; but there was nothing of the kind. In a very short space of time the trap was out of sight and he was left alone. Just for that instant, just for that first moment, in which he realized his solitude, he regretted that he had not acted on his late companion's advice, and pursued the journey with Mary Anne. Then he looked at the five pounds he held in his hand. "Well, here's a go!" He could scarcely believe his eyes. He took up each of the coins separately and examined it. Then he placed them in a low on his extended palm, and stared. Their radiance dazzled him. "Catch me going back while I've got all this, I should rather like somebody to see me at it. Five pounds!" Here was a long-drawn respiration. "Fancy him tipping me five pounds! I call that something like a tip. Won't I spend it! Just fancy having five pounds to spend on what you like! Well, I never did!" "Hallo, you boy, got anything nice to look at?" Bertie turned. A soldier, in a considerable state of undress, was standing a few yards behind him, watching his proceedings. "What's that to you?" asked Bertie. He put both his hands into his trousers pockets, keeping tight hold on the precious sovereigns, and turning, walked up the barrack yard. As he passed, the soldier grinned; but Bertie condescended to pay no heed. "If I'd had a fortune left to me, I'd stand a man a drink, if it was only the price of half a pint."