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Flint stroked the glittering barrel caressingly, and restored the pistol to its hook: there was a cartridge in every chamber.

The other said nothing for a time, but was more in earnest than ever when he did speak.

“Jack,” said he, “I can only tell you this: if we were to lose our money straight away at the outset I should be a lost man. How could we go on without it hawking with an empty wagon? How could I push, push, push as I’ve got to after losing all to start with? A hundred pounds! It isn’t much, but it is everything to me everything. Let me only keep it a bit and it shall grow under my eyes. Take it away from me and I am done for completely done for.”

He forgot that he was using the first person singular instead of plural; it had become natural to him to think out the business and its possibilities in this way, and it was no less in Flint’s nature to see no selfishness in his friend’s speech. Flint only said solemnly:

“You shouldn’t think so much about money, old chap.”

“Money and home!” exclaimed Dick Edmonstone in a low, excited tone. “Home and money! It’s almost all I do think about.”