“But it was likewise my idea, Mr. Venus,” retorted Wegg, “that if he came sneaking and sniffing about the property, he should be threatened, given to understand that he has no right to it, and be made our slave. Wasn’t that my idea, Mr. Venus?”

“It certainly was, Mr. Wegg.”

“It certainly was, as you say, partner,” assented Wegg, put into a better humour by the ready admission. “Very well. I consider his planting one of his menial tools in the yard, an act of sneaking and sniffing. And his nose shall be put to the grindstone for it.”

“It was not your fault, Mr. Wegg, I must admit,” said Venus, “that he got off with the Dutch bottle that night.”