Says George, pointing
with his finger, "If you please to cut open the pannel there, I'll get
something to stuff into it which will bear it from the horse's back."
So while he looked for something to thrust in, I cut a hole in
the pannel of the saddle, and, following it with my finger, I felt
something hard, which seemed to move up and down. Again, as I thrust
it with my finger, "Here's something that should not be here," says I,
not yet imagining what afterwards fell out, and calling, "Run back,"
bade him put up his finger. "Whatever 'tis," says he, "'tis this hurts
the horse, for it bears just on his back when the saddle is set on."
So we strove to take hold on it, but could not reach it; at last we
took the upper part of the saddle quite from the pannel, and there
lay a small silk purse wrapped in a piece of leather, and full of gold
ducats. "Thou art born to be rich, George," says I to him, "here's
more money." We opened the purse and found in it four hundred and
thirty-eight small pieces of gold.
There I had a new skirmish with him whose the money should be. I
told him 'twas his, he told me no; I had accepted of the horse and
furniture, and all that was about him was mine, and solemnly vowed he
would not have a penny of it.
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