"Nay, thou old devil, I'll none call it off. Thou owes me half a quid,
and I'll have it out of thee."

"Look ye here," Charlie said more softly. "I'll tell thee what'll settle
it. Which on 'em come first, th' lad or th'wench?"

"Th' wench come first," Jos Myatt admitted, with resentful reluctance,
dully aware that defeat was awaiting him.

"Well, then! Th' wench is thy eldest child. That's law, that is. And
what was us betting about, Jos lad? Us was betting about thy eldest and
no other. I'll admit as I laid it wasna' a lad, as thou sayst. And it
_wasna'_ a lad. First come is eldest, and us was betting about eldest."

Charlie stared at the father in triumph.

Jos Myatt pushed roughly past him in the narrow space behind the bar,
and came into the parlour. Nodding to me curtly, he unlocked the
bookcase and took two crown pieces from a leathern purse which lay next
to the bag. Then he returned to the bar and banged the coins on the
counter with fury.

"Take thy brass!" he shouted angrily. "Take thy brass! But thou'rt a
damned shark, Charlie, and if anybody 'ud give me a plug o' bacca for
doing it, I'd bash thy face in."

The other sniggered contentedly as he picked up his money.

"A bet's a bet," said Charlie.