"Why not?"

"He has been too good to me."

A coarse laugh of derision greeted this argument; it seemed so irrelevant
to these pure egotists. Seaton, however, persisted, and on that one of
the men got up and stood before the door, and drew his knife gently.

Seaton glanced his eyes round in search of a weapon, and turned pale.

"Do you mean to split on us, mate?" said one of the ruffians in front of
him.

"No, I don't. But I won't rob my benefactor. You shall kill me first."
And with that he darted to the fireplace, and in a moment the poker was
high in air, and the way he squared his shoulders and stood ready to hit
to the on, or cut to the off, was a caution.

"Come, drop that," said Butt, grimly; "and put up _your_ knife, Bob.
Can't a pal be out of a job, and yet not split on them that is in it!"

"Why should I split?" said Robert Penfold. "Has the law been a friend to
me? But I won't rob my benefactor--and his daughter."

"That is square enough," said Butt. "Why, pals, there are other cribs to
be cracked besides that old bloke's. Finish the ale, mate, and part
friends."

"If you will promise me to crack some other crib, and let that one