“Enok, Enok!” cried the priest, making after him.
“Here is the thief!” cried Levion, as they came up.
The priest fancied Enok must have gone suddenly demented at sight of the fire. “Put up your knife!” he called out.
Levion went on, “Here’s the burglar that stole Mack’s money.”
“What’s that you say?” asked the priest uncomprehendingly.
Enok makes a dash at his opponent, and tries to snatch the packet away.
“Get out! I’m going to hand it over to the priest,” cries Levion. “And he can see for himself the sort of helper he’s got now.”
Enok staggered to a tree; his face was grey. The priest looks blankly at the paper, the kerchief, and the notes; he can make nothing of it all.
“I found it there,” says Levion, shaking all over. “He’d hidden it under a stone. There’s Mack’s name on the paper, you can see.”
The priest examined it, growing more and more astounded as he read. “This must be the insurance policy Mack said he had lost, surely?”