low coming on with the roan and grey
seemed to be missing depth in his effort to keep straight."

It was an innocent observation, uttered, may be, a thought too
dogmatically, but truly with no deeper intent than to elicit fresh
criticism from an expert who stood close beside his elbow. But a voice
behind him said, and carried its sneer--

"Maybe he ain't the only one hereabouts as misses depth."

Cai, with a grey face, swung about. He had recognised the voice.
Some demon in him prompted the retort--

"Eh, 'Bias? Is that you?--and still takin' an interest in agriculture?"

The shaft went home. 'Bias's voice shook as he replied--

"I mayn't know much about education, at two minutes' notice; and I
mayn't pretend to know much about ploughin' and wear a button in my coat
to excuse it. But I reckon that for a pound a side I could plough you
silly, Cai Hocken."

It was uttered in full hearing of some ten or twelve spectators, mostly
townsmen of Troy; and these, turning their heads, for a moment not
believing their ears, stared speechlessly at the two men whose
friendship had in six months passed into a local byword. Cap'n Hocken
and Gap'n Hunken--what, _quarrelling?_ No, no--nonsense: it must be
their fun!

But the faces of the pair told a different tale.

It was a stranger--a young farmer from two parishes away--who let off
the first guffaw.

"A bet, naybours!--did 'ee hear _that?_ Take him up, little man--he won't
eat 'ee."

"I'll go ten shillin' myself, rather than miss it," announced another
voice. "Ten shillin' on the bantam!"

"Get out with 'ee both," spoke up a citizen of Troy. "You don't know
the men. 'Tisn't serious now--is it, Cap'n Hocken?--well as you're
actin'--"

"Why not?" Cai stood, breathing hard, eyeing his adversary. "If _he_
means it?"

"That's right! Cover his money?" cried an encouraging voice behind him.

The young farmer slapped his thigh, and ran off to the next group.
"Hi, you fellows! A match!"

He shouted it. They turned about. "What is it, Bill Crago?"--for they
read in his excited gestures that he had real news.

"The fun o' the fair, boys! Two ships'-cap'ns offering to plough for a
pound a side--if you ever!"

"Drunk!" suggested somebody.

"What's the odds if they be? 'Twill be all the better fun," answered Mr
Crago. "No--far's one can tell they're dead sober. Come along and
listen--" He hurried back and they after him.

"If he chooses to back out?"