course. They may carry off the final even, but that, perhaps, is a tall
order."

Todd nursed his astonishment for a full five minutes, whistling
occasionally, as at some very fantastic idea. At last he said more
seriously: "Aren't you now, Jim, really pulling my leg?"

"No, honour bright! Biffen's are really eye-openers."

Gus said with infinite slyness: "Look here, I'll bet you evens Biffen's
_don't_ pull off the final."

"Oh, that is rot, Gus, to talk about betting, for you can't pay if you
lose."

Gus had not too much sensitiveness in his character, but this unmeant
insult stung him.

"You've no right to say that. I've paid all I've ever betted with you."

Cotton considered heavily in his own mind for a moment. "That is almost
true, but--"

"Well, what do you mean--" began Todd, in a paddy.

"All right," said Cotton; "shut up, confound you! I'll take you."

"Three quid Biffen's are not cock-house at 'footer.'"

"Done," said Cotton, unwillingly pulling out his note-book; "and straight,