stinging blow in the face. He fell back. Behind the overturned
table, the Weasel sat looking at the floor. It was nothing to
him what they did. He shrugged his thin shoulders.

Suddenly the Wolf stopped and let Adolph slip to the floor, where
he lay unconscious.

The Wolf kicked him. "I won't kill you, you swine!" he said.
"You have got to find that paper. Then I'll see about it. Pick
him up, somebody. I can't trust myself to touch him. Lost that
paper--of course it is written in invisible ink; but suppose some
blundering fool should get it near a fire?"

"They won't," said Ledermann as he worked over Adolph. "These
stupid country people, what would they know about invisible ink?
It may never be found at all. It may even now be trodden in the
dust."

"Let us hope," said the Wolf. "Adolph shall retrace his steps
inch by inch until the paper is found, even so much as a tiny
scrap of it, so that I may know where it is."

"He will find it in the dust," repeated Ledermann and threw water
over Adolph, while the Weasel stood up and tightened his belt.
Then the Wolf counted out to him the money needed for his short
journey to Ithaca. The counting was interrupted with directions
and threats. The Weasel drew a long breath of relief when he was
finally dismissed, and was allowed to slip out into the night,
where he turned toward Syracuse. Ledermann still worked over the
unconscious man.