He returned in a moment, the Weasel following at his
heels. The third man did not give him a glance. He sat looking
at his beautiful, slender hands. No one spoke.
"Well, proceed!" cried the third man irritably. "Proceed!
Proceed! Proceed! Himmel, you must be led step by step! Speak,
idiot! How goes it?"
A look of hate flashed into the Weasel's lowered eyes and was
gone. He raised them timidly.
"So far, so good, Excellency. I hung on behind the tonneau. No
one noticed in that lazy village. I could hear the Colonel
talking to the two small boys with him. He can't understand the
attack, but he thinks the force he is building is being attacked
through him on account of a gang of thieves who do not want to
risk detection by his men. He thinks it has something to do with
the fair. The Colonel has gone to police headquarters. The boys
went home." The Weasel commenced to laugh silently.
The Wolf watched him. Then "Well?" he said again in his low,
cutting voice.
The Weasel stopped. "Your pardon, Excellency. It is so amusing!
That Colonel, he must be a man forty-five years old. He treated
those small boys, those Boy Scouts, like equals. He talked it
over with them as though they were men.
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