“I should say, sir, the way to make John Holl a rich man in his own way would be to buy him two or three carts and half a dozen horses, and to purchase some little established connection at the same time as a carrier or dust contractor, or something of that sort.” “The very thing,” Captain Bradshaw said. “I give you _carte blanche_. Buy the lease, you know, of the house and furniture and stable, and all that; make all the arrangements, and come to me when you have done for a cheque for the amount, and, above all, don’t be afraid of making it too large. There, I am glad that’s off my mind. Now, if you won’t take any more wine, we’ll go upstairs.” Upon the following evening, at half-past eight, when he knew that the children would be in bed, and that John Holl would be smoking his pipe, Prescott went down to his house. He had made John Holl’s acquaintance at the time when he had seen about the arrangements for Bessy’s sailing to join her husband in Australia. “I am main glad to see you, Mr. Prescott; sit down, sir. We had a letter from our Evan this morning; he seems to like navvying work very much, Evan does, and lor, how fond he is of Mr. Maynard, to be sure. But there, that ain’t to be wondered at. He be an out-and-outer. There’s no mistake about he. Shocking bad job his losing all his money in that there Bank, weren’t it, sir?” “It was, Mr. Holl,” Prescott said, lighting his pipe, “a very bad business, indeed. Please sit down, Mrs. Holl, else I shan’t be able to talk to John here.” Mrs. Holl took her work and sat down at the table. “A strange thing your James turning out to be a rich man at last, John?” “Ay, that were a rum turn out, sir. Sarah’s been to see him to-day, and she says he seems as comfortable and as right as ninepence.” “I have known Captain Bradshaw for a long time, John, and I am sure he and James will get on capitally together.” “What tickles my fancy, Mr. Prescott,” John said, taking his pipe out of his mouth and laughing to himself, “what tickles my fancy more than all the rest, is to think that chap Barton, after all the years of snuffing and smelling about here, ain’t going to get anything out of it. To think he knew all along as how as James were Captain Bradshaw’s grandson, and never said a word about it! I wouldn’t mind giving a pound—well, no, I don’t know as I’d mind giving five pound—for a turn up with him for half an hour. He’s a pretty stiff one, but I think,” John Holl said meditatingly, “I think I’d give him soup in half an hour. I wish I could pay him out, and I ain’t quite sure I can’t. Perkins—you know Perkins, sir, of the ‘Stunners?’” Prescott nodded. “Well, I’ve heard Perkins say that the Slogger—know the Slogger, Mr. Prescott?” Prescott again nodded—“that the Slogger says as how he knows that against Barton as would make his life not worth a brass farthing if it was known.”