THE BLACK FOX SKIN
tion, more than that which November gave to Mrs. Rone, Black, and myself the same evening.
"It was the carcass of Rizpah give me the first start," said Joe. "As soon as I saw that I knew it were n't Val."
"Why?" asked Sally.
"You remember it was hacked up? Now here was the case up to that. A thief had robbed Sally and all the sign he left behind was a few threads of his necker and an English-made cartridge. The thief goes out and old Rizpah attacks him. He shoots her. Then he cuts her body nigh to pieces. Why?" We all shook our heads.
"Because he wants to get his bullet out of her. And why does he want to get his bullet? Only one possible reason. Because it's different to the bullet he dropped on purpose in the house."
"By Jove!" I cried.
"From that it all fits in. It seems funny that the thief should drop a cartridge, funnier still that he should n't notice he'd left a bit of his necker stuck to the nails on the door. Still, I'd
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