Even to No Foot this seemed a clever sally, and he could not help laughing.
“Why do you want me to make little spear heads?” he said presently.
“I will tell you,” said No Man, “but do not repeat it. I want them to put on little spears.”
“You have a ready tongue,” said No Foot, “considering that you are a filthy ne’er-do-well.”
“I want three of them,” said No Man.
“And what will you give me in exchange for my time and my flint.”
“I will come sometimes and talk to you,” said No Man.
“You will get a clubbing between the eyes, if you do.”
“I will draw the story of your life on a nice white bone, and give it to you. It will consist entirely of hunts and fights in which you get the best of it.”