Moira seemed to shake herself together from this blow he had delivered with all possible mercy. "I don't exactly understand, friend, but I thank you." She stepped into the circle of wondering natives and repeated his orders in Chinook.
"But he wears no uniform," objected one in English.
"He needs no scarlet tunic," the girl replied. "He is the law." This also she repeated in their jargon of gutturals.
On order, Karmack led the way to the tent. Seymour followed close behind with his arm supporting Moira, who seemed a bit unsteady.
There was a groan from the pretended half-breed when he saw that the lid of the treasure chest was thrown back.
"Since when did the Force take to breaking the locks of honest men?" he snarled.
Instead of answering, Seymour slammed down the lid and motioned his old enemy to seat himself upon the chest. Then he crossed the tent and picked up the tell-tale boot. Returning with it, he made a comparison.
"Thought so," he murmured.
There was no need for further measuring and he tossed the gear under the table. Karmack had the biggest feet he had ever seen. By no possibility could one of them have been forced into the boot which he had just flung down.
Knowing nothing of the footprints Seymour had found near the scene of Caswell's killing, Moira O'Malley looked on at the comparison of boots in mystified silence. Karmack seemed to have a better grasp of the reason behind the test.