"When we need help—" Torrance began furiously.
Conrad cut in more quietly, but he was evidently holding himself in check. "And so you sneak up and listen—hide in the trees?"
"No sneak." Something stronger peeped through Koppy's veneer.
"We won't argue it. You know I know."
"I hear rifles," said Koppy, looking from foreman to boss. "I come quick." He was, in his subtle way, demanding an explanation.
"If you were half as keen over the knives and knuckle-dusters of them fellows of yours!" snapped Torrance.
"Rifles kill—far away. Knives—perhaps not—and only that far." He swung out a dexterous arm.
"Except when they throw the beastly things," growled Conrad beneath his breath, with twinges of memory.
"My men throw only when they can't reach," replied Koppy, as if Conrad had spoken aloud.
"Or when they're afraid to," added the foreman.