After a long pause he added, "I suppose you're wanting odds ?" "Evens will do," said Sir Harry.
The old man turned and rang the bell.
"Tell Jim to fetch in the red cock," he shouted to the wall-eyed footman--who must have been waiting in the corridor, so promptly he appeared.
"And Jim won't be long about it either," whispered Honoria.

She had come forward quietly, and stood at Taffy's elbow.
Sir Harry shook a finger at her and laid it on his lips.

But the old Squire did not hear.

He sat glum, pulling a whisker and keeping a sour eye on the bird, which was strutting about in rather foolish bewilderment at the pink peonies on the carpet.
"I'm giving you every chance," he grumbled at length.
"Oh, as for that," Sir Harry replied, equably, "have it out in the yard, if you please, on your own dunghill." "No.

Indoors is bad enough." Jim appeared just then, and turned out to be Taffy's old enemy, the Whip, bearing the Squire's game-cock in a basket.