But I'm not against a bet--everything fair and open. Let any man
bet me ten pound as I shall see Cliff's Holiday, and I'll go and
stand by myself. I want no company. I'd as lief do it as I'd fill
this pipe."

"Ah, but who's to watch you, Dowlas, and see you do it? That's no
fair bet," said the butcher.

"No fair bet?" replied Mr. Dowlas, angrily. "I should like to
hear any man stand up and say I want to bet unfair. Come now,
Master Lundy, I should like to hear you say it."

"Very like you would," said the butcher. "But it's no business
o' mine. You're none o' my bargains, and I aren't a-going to try
and 'bate your price. If anybody 'll bid for you at your own
vallying, let him. I'm for peace and quietness, I am."

"Yes, that's what every yapping cur is, when you hold a stick up at
him," said the farrier. "But I'm afraid o' neither man nor ghost,
and I'm ready to lay a fair bet. _I_ aren't a turn-tail cur."

"Aye, but there's this in it, Dowlas," said the landlord, speaking
in a tone of much candour and tolerance. "There's folks, i' my
opinion, they can't see ghos'es, not if they stood as plain as a
pike-staff before 'em. And there's reason i' that. For there's my
wife, now, can't smell, not if she'd the strongest o' cheese under
her nose. I never see'd a ghost myself; but then I says to myself,
"Very like I haven't got the smell for 'em." I mean, putting a
ghost for a smell, or else contrairiways. And so, I'm for holding
with both sides; for, as I say, the truth lies between 'em. And if