the dulness of his life and earn a little money. He told me so the
other day. He is both brave and wicked. Let _him_ him do the deed."

"Very well," replied the Horse; "I think your idea is good. Will you
arrange the matter so that it be carried out without any mistake?"

"Leave it to me," replied the other. "You need not disturb yourself. The
days of the Rabbit are numbered."

"Good!" neighed the Horse; "and the quantity of my corn, oats,--besides
carrots, apples, and other luxuries,--will be _beyond_ number. We'll at
once open an account with the fruiterer and corn-dealer."

"Also the cheese-monger," said the Mouse. "Well, I must go; there is not
a moment to be lost if we wish to carry out our plan." Then he hurried
off to the Sentry.

"Sentry," said he, "are you prepared to run some risk for the sake of
money?"

"For the sake of money I'm prepared to do anything," said the wicked
fellow.

"Then listen," said the Mouse. "There is a sum of money that, strictly
speaking, ought to be divided between the Rabbit and myself. But the
best way appears to be that I should have it all. But that is a little
difficult so long as he is alive. So I come to you to ask you if you
will kill him, provided I fill your knapsack with gold."

"Upon that condition, yes," said the ruffian. "But don't attempt to
break it, or I shall put an end to you as well as your friend."

"Never fear. Rest assured you shall have it," said the Mouse.

"Now for the details of the plot," he continued. "I am going to propose
to the Rabbit a private performance in front of your sentry-box. I shall
say I have suggested it in order to vary the terrible dulness of your
existence. Having finished our performance I shall lead the way straight
forward, _with our backs towards you_. When we have gone a few steps I
shall remark loudly, 'That Sentry friend of ours is a smart chap; _he_
knows how to handle the bayonet'. This is to be the signal for you to
step quietly out of your box, and, pretending to stumble, stab the
Rabbit in the back with your bayonet. This should be quite easy, for he
is sure to be walking away on his hind-legs. He has fallen into that
habit since he has taken to playing the drum. You and I will, of course,
exhibit much grief, and declare that his death was an unfortunate
accident. You see the plan offers no difficulty."

"Then if the _plan_ offers no difficulty, _I_ won't," said the Sentry,
with a cold-blooded laugh. "When is it to