"The paper covered with numerals!" he muttered savagely under his breath. "You clumsy fool to have left that behind!"
"What was the use——" began another.
But Hare-Lip laughed, and broke in quietly:
"Do ye take me for a fool, mates? I was not going to take away that original sheet of paper and proclaim it to our chiefs that it was one of us who killed Red-Poll. No! I took the sheet of letter-paper with me when I went to meet Red-Poll. After he fell—I shot him between the shoulders—I turned him over on his back and ransacked his pockets; that was a blind. Then I found the paper with the figures and copied them out carefully—that was another blind—in case Silver-Leg heard of the affair and suspected us."
One or two of the others gave a growl of dissent.
"You might have been caught while you were playing that silly game," said one of the men, "which would not deceive a child."
"Silver-Leg is no gaby," murmured another.
"Well, he'll be here anon," concluded Hare-Lip lightly. "If you think he means to play a dirty trick, he can go and join Red-Poll, that's all."
"He may not come, after all."
"He must come. I had his message to meet him here to-night without fail. The chiefs have planned another attack: on the Orleans coach this time. Silver-Leg wants us to be of the party."