"And so you've been a-sacrificing yourself, Master Amos, for your sister and her dear children," he said.  "I see it all; but shouldn't I just like to have fast hold of that rascal's neck with one hand, and a good stout horsewhip in the other.  But I suppose it's no use wishing for such things.  Well, I'm your man, sir, as far as I can be of any service.  But as for him and his promises, what are they worth?  Why, he'll be just squeezing you as dry as an old sponge as has been lying for a month in a dust-pan.  He'll never keep his word, not he, while there's a penny to be got out of you.  And yet, I suppose, you couldn't have done different for the sake of the poor children, bless their little hearts.  And I'm to take the money to him?  Yes; and a policeman or two at the same time would be best.  But no, I suppose not, as you've promised, and for the credit of the family.  Well, it's a shocking bad business altogether; but when a man's been and tackled it as you've done, Master Amos, it'll come right in the end, there's no doubt of it."