"Pay down! Pay down! Papoose dead."
Ralph drew back.
"Dead! When? Where? Tell me all about it."
"Dead at Caughnawaga."
"How long ago?"
"Ten year--Day 'twas took. Come, see, if you will. Au-dessous du plancher at my cabane--Thousand dollars!" and he held out his hand again.
"Ten years ago! And you have been drawing money from me for that child's support all this time? And never told!"
Paul looked gratified, and drew himself up like modest genius when at length its merit is brought to light. Then he chuckled and moved his fingers as if to poke Ralph in the ribs. The idea of Ralph's having been so completely fooled was too delicious.
"But how could it have happened? You cannot mean that you--murdered the child?"
"Ouff," grunted Paul, from whose face the grin was fading. His sly escapade appeared not to be appreciated as it deserved. He placed his fingers on his throat now, and let his tongue protrude, to describe the process of strangulation.