Galloping Dick
lively terms. But ’twas the leanness of my purse as drew me on. “Split me,” says I to Danny, throwing a crown at him, “and here’s my last coin upon it;” and there upon the spot the bargain was struck. But the next day I was out of temper with myself. ’Twas not the greatness of the peril that put me off, for I have never been stopped by a bloody point in all my days; but the truth was, there was never a rascal of the whole pack of our fellowship that I would care to join hands with on an emprise of the kind. I was not for couples myself: I kept myself aloof; and Old Irons and I wore the best reputations upon the road, but in very different ways, as you may fancy. Old Irons was as black a rogue as you may conjecture, being bred up from a lad for cutpurse and wheedler, and entertaining any business as would fetch him in a guinea to break a bottle on. Out of his drink he was as cunning as he was ferocious, but in wine you would not match his bravadoes out of Hell. And, by a curious chance, it was this very man that directed me to the folly of the adventure.
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