“The Snow-Burner comes here after gold?”
“Yes.”
“And when he has the gold we go away?”
“Yes.”
“Good. The pig, Iron Hair, wears a great belt of buckskin about his middle. The gold is in there, much of it. I will poison him to-night, and we will take the belt and go away from here in the morning.”
Reivers made no reply. Here was success offered him without so much as a move of his hand. He need have no part in it, none at all. Tillie would bring him the gold belt. That was what he had come for; and hitherto he had never let anything in the world stand between him and the gratification of his desires. Yet he hesitated.
“Is there more gold here than Iron Hair wears in his belt?” asked Tillie.
Reivers shook his head.
“Then why wait?” Her whisper was full of amazement. “It is not like the Snow-Burner. Was there ever a man who could make him do his will? And yet now the Snow-Burner labours for Iron Hair like a woman.”
“Like a woman?” He repeated her bold words in surprise, while she sat humbly awaiting the careless, back-hand blow which knocked her rolling on the sand. “And was that hand like the hand of a woman?” he asked.