That's where I get my brains--and manners." "Where did you get the other ?" asked Jacques, shyly, almost furtively.
"Money ?" "Not money--the other." Belward spurred, and his horse sprang away viciously.

A laugh came back on Jacques, who followed as hard as he could, and it gave him a feeling of awe.

They were apart for a long time, then came together again, and rode for miles without a word.

At last Belward, glancing at a sign-post before an inn door, exclaimed at the legend--"The Whisk o' Barley,"-- and drew rein.

He regarded the place curiously for a minute.