"Get back to the office, Strong," said he; "the general wants you; Turner's in and says there's no one near the fire, no one to answer. All they found was this. The general thought you might understand it, Harris. It lay on a rock by the fire."
He held forth a single feather, gray and white, tied with a bit of pink tape to a scrap of cardboard, torn from some cartridge case and folded over. Within, roughly traced in paint, were two figures—a 3 and a 2.
"It means, 'Tonio," said Harris simply, "and he wants to talk. What has happened that he should be afraid to come in—here?"
Willett heard and knew and would have stayed, but the doctor for once looked embarrassed, and Strong signalled Willet to come with him. "I'll be back presently, Hefty," said Willett significantly, and vanished.
Even then Bentley faltered. "I'll let the general answer that," said he. "How can 'Tonio be summoned in?"
"Only as I did, at the Peak, and on honor that he may go," was the answer. "Unless—I can go out to him."
"You can't—to-night, anyhow! Is there no one else he'll meet who can understand him?"
"Only one American—Case."
"Humph!" was the answer, with a shrug and a keen, inquiring look in the doctor's eyes. "I've shown it to Case, and he says 'Tonio has only one object in life now, in or out of the post, and that is to square accounts with Willett, who was ass enough to strike him. This from Case, mind you, who, I believe, hates Willett himself. I've just got him stowed away for the night. Had to take him out of earshot of the store and put him in limbo at Craney's shack, where he can't hear what's going on. I gave him a dose that would flatten out St. Vitus himself. There'll be no budging Case this night unless—but that isn't likely."
"Then I need to go and see the general," said Harris.