"One for makin' and one for fixin'," said Jerk, holding them out.
"No!" said the sexton, eying the coins.
"Then hang the fixin'!" cried the boy, "for I'll fix it myself. So it's one for makin' and the wood, ain't it. Mister Sexton?"
"No, it's two for makin', and I lose on that."
"Very well," agreed Jerk desperately, handing over the money, "and please, Mister Sexton, make it now, 'cos I wants it quick."
So the bargain was struck there and then, and off they both set to the coffin shop to carry it out; and the gallows was made by nightfall and set up on Jerk's property, the sexton carrying it there himself, digging the hole and fixing it up—a regular professional affair with a jangly rusty chain a-swing through the hook—and all this for the nominal price of two silver crowns, lately received by the purchaser from Dr. Syn.
"Ah!" cried Jerk, as they viewed the completed erection from the other side of the dyke; "ain't it fust rate?"
"Slap up," agreed the sexton.
"Quite strong, ain't it?" inquired the owner anxiously, to which the sexton replied imperiously:
"It were Mipps as knocked it up, as you seed yourself; and when Mipps knocks up, you can lay it's solid wot's knocked," saying which he turned and strode off toward the village, followed by Jerk.
