Pegic nodded gravely.
“It is even so, my white brother.”
“Bon. And he was a small man and gray?”
“He was.”
“And carried skins on his sled?”
“Yes. Many skins and one he showed to me. It was the skin of a black fox. Truly a fine pelt, my brother. You are wise in the ways of trapping, but your eyes would have glittered and your fingers itched had you beheld it.”
Old Joe nodded his satisfaction. Clearly, then, they were on the right trail and the man had the skin with him.
“So de man showed you de skins? Yes?”
“He did. He was swollen with pride. But to Pegic he looked like a man who is sick.”
“Seeck?”