Old John did not reply; it was not his habit to notice domestic differences of opinion, especially those in which women had a share--queer cattle that he knew nothing about. The men talked for a long time regarding the danger the judge's remarks had brought the house into; and they considered all the circumstances of the case. Allusion was made to the injustice of the law, which allowed the rich and forbade the poor to bet; anecdotes were related, but nothing they said threw new light on the matter in hand, and when Old John rose to go William summed up the situation in these few words-- "Bet I must, if I'm to get my living. The only thing I can do is to be careful not to bet with strangers." "I don't see how they can do nothing to you if yer makes that yer principle and sticks to it," said old John, and he put on the huge-rimmed, greasy hat, three sizes too large for him, looking in his square-cut tattered frock-coat as queer a specimen of humanity as you would be likely to meet with in a day's walk. "If you makes that yer principle and sticks to it," thought William. But practice and principle are never reduced to perfect agreement. One is always marauding the other's territory; nevertheless for several months principle distinctly held the upper hand; William refused over and over again to make bets with comparative strangers, but the day came when his principle relaxed, and he took the money of a man whom he thought was all right. It was done on the impulse of the moment, but the two half-crowns wrapped up in the paper, with the name of the horse written on the paper, had hardly gone into the drawer than he felt that he had done wrong. He couldn't tell why, but the feeling came across him that he had done wrong in taking the man's money--a tall, clean-shaven man dressed in broadcloth. It was too late to draw back. The man had finished his beer and had left the bar, which in itself was suspicious. Three days afterwards, between twelve and one, just the busiest time, when the bar was full of people, there came a cry of "Police!" An effort was made to hide the betting plant; a rush was made for the doors. It was all too late; the sergeant and a constable ordered that no one was to leave the house; other police were outside. The names and addresses of all present were taken down; search was made, and the packets of money and the betting books were discovered. Then they all had to go to Marlborough Street. XLI