"I think you call it the high toby," said Harry delicately and began to sing to the tune of a catch:
"Oh, three merry men, three merry men, three highwaymen were we. You in a quag and he on a nag and I on top of the three."
"Lord love you, are you on the road?" Benjamin cried. "Why, rot you, did you want a share then? You should ha' said so, bully. Come on now, my dear, let's up. We do be gentlemen and share fair enough."
"I warrant you I am having my share," Harry laughed; "and I like it very well. But oh, Benjamin, there would have been nought to share if I had not come up. No fun at all, Benjamin." He wrenched the pistol away. "'Tis I have made the business joyous. You are a dull fellow by yourself."
"Rot you," said Benjamin frankly. "When Ned comes back he'll shoot you like vermin."
On which they both heard horses, and both, according to their abili