and I have a presentiment of something good. Gosh! I wish Toby was here!"
"And how much do you stand to lose, if your mozzle is out?" I asked. "By-the-way, didn't I incidentally hear that you were playing cards all last Sunday?"
"I don't believe that has anything to do with it," replied Moriarty, in an altered tone. "But, to tell you the truth, I dare n't count up how much I'll lose if things go crooked. I've plunged too heavy—there's no doubt about that—but I did it with the best intention. I made sure of scooping; and, for that matter, I make sure of it still. But whatever you do, don't begin to preach about the evils of gambling—not now, Collins; not till after we get news of these events. Does n't everybody gamble, from the Governor downward—bar you, and a couple or three more sanctimonious old hypocrites, with one foot in the grave, and the other in the devil's mouth? Why, Nosey Alf is the only fellow on this station that has no interest in the sweep, besides no end of private bets."
"Is n't that Toby?" I asked, indicating a horseman, half-a-mile away.
"Gosh, yes!" replied Moriarty nervously. "I wonder what brings him from that direction? Come, Collins—will you give me five to one he has letters for you? I'll take it at that."
"Indeed you won't, sonny."
"Well, let's have some wager before he gets any nearer," persisted Moriarty, with an unpleasant laugh. The suspense was beginning to tell upon a mind not originally cast in the Stoic mould. So much so, that I felt inclined to lose a trifle to him, even as a teetotaller would administer a nip to a man who was beginning to see things. "Come!" he continued recklessly; "I'll give you two to one he has letters for you; twenty to one he has letters for the station"And so he gabbled on, whilst, drifting into my Hamlet-mood, I charted the poor fellow's mind for my own edification.
"Hold on, Moriarty," I interrupted, recalling myself. "Let's hear that fifty-to-one offer again. Am I to understand that if Toby has letters for the station and none for me, you win; if he has letters for me and none for the station, I win; and, failing the fulfilment of either double, the wager is off?"
"That's it. Are you on?"
"Make it a hundred to one."
"Done! at a hundred to one—in what?"
"Half-sovereigns," I replied, feeling for the purse which, vulgar as it is, bushmen even of aristocratic lineage are compelled to carry. I placed the little coin—about one-tenth of my total wealth—in Moriarty's hand. He shrank from the touch.
"What do you mean?" he asked petulantly. "I might n't win it, after all. Don't be more disagreeable than you can help."
"You intend to get it without giving an equivalent—don't you? You know it's yours. Are n't you betting on a certainty? Lay it on the window sill, if you like, and pick it up when you can read your title clear. If you don't speculate, you won't accumulate; and I suppose you've no objection to looking into the morality of your speculation"
