"Done? No!" growled the latter. "What have you come for?"
"To lend you a hand," replied White-Beak, "with the body of the vermin."
"Too soon! I haven't got him yet."
"No hitch, I hope," broke in one of the others.
"None."
"Then we can give you a hand now as well as later. The fox may be armed."
"He may," rejoined Blue-Heart. "Go to the other side of the road," he added, "so as to intercept him in the rear. You have your musket?"
"No."
"Then you can hold him while I use mine. It will make assurance doubly sure."
They spoke in whispers scarcely audible above the manifold murmurs of the wood. Now, like creeping, furtive beasts of prey, White-Beak and his companions crawled on hands and knees through the thicket and across the road, and thence under cover once more. The trap was indeed well set for the quarry which could not fail to walk into it very soon. Indeed, less than five minutes later there came from some little way down the road the sound of a measured and firm footfall.