"Very well, I'll trust you. Give us the tenner on account." Dan Ogle stuck out his hand carelessly; but it remained empty. "I said I'd give fifty when they're changed," grinned Viney, knowingly. "What? Well, I know that; an' not play no tricks. An' now when I ask you to pay first the ten you've got, you don't want to do it! That don't look like a chap that means to part straight and square, does it?" Viney put his hand in his pocket. "All right," he said, "that's fair enough. Ten now an' forty when the paper's changed. Where's the paper?" "O, I ain't got that about me just now," Dan replied airily. "Be here to-morrow, same time. But you can give me the ten now." Viney's teeth showed unamiably through his grin. "Ah," he said; "I'll be here to-morrow with that, same time!" "What?" It was Dan's honour that smarted now. "What? Won't trust me with ten, when I offer, free an' open, to trust you with forty? O, it's off then. I'm done. It's enough to make a man sick." And he turned loftily away. Viney's grin waxed and waned, and he followed Dan with his eyes, thinking hard. Dan stole a look behind, and stopped. "Look here," Viney said at last. "Look here. Let's cut it short. We can't sharp each other, and we're wasting time. You haven't got those notes." Dan half-turned, and answered in a tone between question and retort. "O, haven't I?" he said. "No; you haven't. See here; I'll give you five pounds if you'll show 'em to me. Only show 'em." Dan was posed. "I said I hadn't got 'em about me," he said, rather feebly. "No; nor can't get 'em. Can you? Cut it short." Dan looked up and down, and rubbed his cap about his head. "I know where they are," he sulkily concluded. "You know where they are, but you can't get 'em," Viney retorted with decision. "Can I get 'em?" Dan glanced at him superciliously. "You?" he answered. "Lord, no." "Can we get 'em together?" Dan took to rubbing his cap about his head again, and staring very thoughtfully at the ground. Then he came a step nearer, and looked up. "Two might," he said, "if you'd see it through. With nerve." Viney took him by the upper arm, and drew close. "We're the two," he said. "You know where the stuff is, and you say we can get it. We'll haggle no more. We're partners and we'll divide all we get. How's that?" "How about Blind George?" "Never mind Blind George--unless you want to make him a present. _I_ don't. Blind George can fish for himself. He's shoved out. We'll do it, and we'll keep what we get. Now where are the notes? Who's got them?" Dan Ogle stood silent a moment, considering. He looked over the bank toward the London streets, down on the grass at his feet, and then up at an adventurous lark, that sang nearer and still nearer the town smoke. Last he looked at Viney, and make up his mind. "Who's got 'em?" he repeated; "Cap'en Nat Kemp's got 'em." "What? Cap'en----" "Cap'en Nat Kemp's got 'em."