“You got three for thirty-nine?”
“Ya-as, sir.”
“Let’s have a look.”
Pant’s slender fingers trembled as he spread the five squares of paper out upon the sand.
“Good!” he muttered. “You got them all right. Now look at them all. Snowball. See any difference in ’em?” He held a lighted match above the bonds.
Snowball studied them as intently as his roving eyes would allow.
“No, no, sir, I don’t.”
“These two. Look different, don’t they?”
“No, no, sir; I can’t say dat.”
“You’re blind,” grunted Pant. “Two of them are paler than the others; ink is not so dark. See? Not quite.”