The other
traffic on the road was normal.
Next day, not long after the third hour, I was in the outlaws' camp. Bulla
I found awake and with no signs of drowsiness or fatigue. In full sight of
all of his men he spread a blanket, and, on it placed four coin-bags, two
small and two full size. From the larger he spilt their contents on the
blanket and, each of us taking a bag, we picked up the silver one piece at
a time, both keeping count together. There was an odd piece.
"It's yours, lad!" said Bulla. "I've enough here."
The gold pieces similarly spilled and counted, came out even.
"Are you satisfied?" Bulla queried.
"Both with the amount and the division," I replied, "and now I'll be off.
You must need sleep."
"Sit still!" Bulla commanded.
He rose and went into his tent, for the outlaws had excellent hide tents.
He returned with a fine new coin-belt of pigskin leather.
"Here," he said as he squatted down and handed it to me, "is a little gift
from Bulla. Wear it next your skin. And remember to keep it flat and
loose. Many a man has lost his life with his coin in a tight place because
a bulging belt betrayed him to greedy ruffians. My lads will respect you,
but you may encounter bandits who have no inkling that you are under my
protection.
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