"Don't know the parties," replied Nares; "and I'm coming to them,
anyway. For it strikes me, when it came to smuggling opium, you walked
right up?"

"So I did," I said; "sick I am to have to say it!"

"All the same," continued Nares, "you went into the opium-smuggling with
your head down; and a good deal of fussing I've listened to, that you
hadn't more of it to smuggle. Now, maybe your partner's not quite fixed
the same as you are; maybe he sees precious little difference between
the one thing and the other."

"You could not say truer: he sees none, I do believe," cried I; "and
though I see one, I could never tell you how."

"We never can," said the oracular Nares; "taste is all a matter of
opinion. But the point is, how will your friend take it? You refuse a
favour, and you take the high horse at the same time; you disappoint
him, and you rap him over the knuckles. It won't do, Mr. Dodd; no
friendship can stand that. You must be as good as your friend, or as bad
as your friend, or start on a fresh deal without him."

"I don't see it!" said I. "You don't know Jim!"

"Well, you WILL see," said Nares. "And now, here's another point. This
bit of money looks mighty big to Mr. Pinkerton; it may spell life or
health to him; but among all your creditors, I don't see that it amounts
to a hill of beans--I don't believe it'll pay their car-fares all round.
And don't you think you'll ever get thanked. You were known to pay a