“It is here under the cushion,” replied Joey, searching for the twine and producing it.
“What shall we find to tie to it?” said the courier; “something not too heavy—a bottle won’t do.”
“What’s it for?” inquired McShane.
“To trail, sir,” replied the courier.
“To trail! I think they’re fast enough upon our trail already; but if you want to help them, a red herring’s the thing.”
“No, sir, a piece of red cloth would do better,” replied the courier.
“Red cloth! One would think you were fishing for mackerel,” replied McShane.
“Will this piece of black cloth do, which was round the lock of the gun?” said Joey.
“Yes, I think it will,” replied the courier.
The courier made fast the cloth to the end of the twine, and throwing it clear of the carriage, let the ball run out, until he had little more than the bare end in his hand, and the cloth was about forty yards behind the carriage, dragging over the snow.