"I daresay," said Jerry, "unless, of course, I got you first."
"You'd have a good number to get, my lad," laughed the sexton. "But it's no use a-harguin' like this. You won't betray us when it don't serve your turn to do so, and it won't do that, 'cos we has very fine prospects open for you, and advantages. Why, we can set you in the way of rollin' in a coach before we've done with you, and who knows, years hence, when you're older than you be now, who knows but what you might not succeed to the headship. If anything was to happen to the great chief wot's to prevent you from takin' his place, eh? You're smart, ain't you? There's no gainsay in' that, now, is there, Missus Waggetts?"
"No, indeed," replied that lady.
"Then take my tip, the straight tip of an old gentleman o' fortune, and you join us."
"What'll I have to do and what is it I'm a-joinin', though?" asked the boy.
"The great scheme of wool-runnin'," said Mr. Mipps.
"Ah," sighed Jerry, "I thought as much. And what am I to do, always supposin' that I'm willin' to join?"
"We've a vacancy in the horsemen—a man short, you see, though we've got the horse. It's Mr. Rash's horse, but we've turned out the schoolmaster and kept his horse. He weren't one of us, you see, so we found that we didn't want him no more."
"You've killed him?" cried the hangman, starting up.
