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This
silence he might perhaps have preserved throughout had it not occurred to
him that he might pump something out of the servant about the family he was
going to visit.
'That's not a bad-like old cob of yours,' he observed, drawing rein so as
to let the shaggy white come alongside of him.
'He belies his looks, then,' replied Watson, with a grin of his cadaverous
face, 'for he's just as bad a beast as ever looked through a bridle. It's a
parfect disgrace to a gentleman to put a man on such a beast.'
Sponge saw the sort of man he had got to deal with, and proceeded
accordingly.
'Have you lived long with Mr. Jawleyford?' he asked.
'No, nor will I, if I can help it,' replied Watson, with another grin and
another touch of the old hat. Touching his hat was about the only piece of
propriety he was up to.
'What, he's not a brick, then?' asked Sponge.
'Mean man,' replied Watson with a shake of the head; 'mean man,' he
repeated. 'You're nowise connected with the fam'ly, I s'pose?' he asked
with a look of suspicion lest he might be committing himself.


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