"Let him hear me!" said the man—nevertheless he lowered his voice. "They're a quarter-mile off," he added.
"Listen!" said Rina.
Over the lake, from an immeasurable distance, came throbbing the imbecile laughter of a loon.
"Loon, him three miles off," said Rina significantly.
Thereafter, Mabyn spoke in a whisper; a wheedling note crept into his voice. "That was a good scheme of yours, going to the camp to set the girl's arm," he said. "Now we can find out all they do!"
"I not go to find out," said Rina sadly. "I go for I sorry I 'urt her. I shoot her jus' lak a breed I am!"
Mabyn paid no attention to this. "Keep your eyes open when you're in their camp every day," he urged. "See how much food they have; find out where he keeps the shells for his gun. If you could only steal the gun!"
"He carry it always on his back," said Rina. "He never put it down."
"I know, he's on his guard now," said Mabyn. "But if you act friendly all the time, he'll forget. We've got plenty of time; do nothing for a few days. I'll keep away from there too. He'll think it's all right. Then"—Mabyn's whisper was pure venom—"sneak up behind him and knock him on the head with an axe! Choose a moment when the girl is asleep or delirious. We will throw his body in the lake. No one will ever know how it happened!"
There was a pause.