“My God! it is awful—and to think that man Girty was once a white man,” cried Col. Zane.
“He came very near being a dead man,” said Jonathan, with grim humor. “I got a long shot at him and killed his big white horse.”
“It’s a pity you missed him,” said Silas Zane.
“Here comes Wetzel. What will he say about the massacre?” remarked Major McColloch.
Wetzel joined the group at that moment and shook hands with Jonathan. When interrogated about the failure of Col. Crawford’s expedition Wetzel said that Slover had just made his appearance at the cabin of Hugh Bennet, and that he was without clothing and almost dead from exposure.
“I’m glad Slover got out alive. He was against the march all along. If Crawford had listened to us he would have averted this terrible affair and saved his own life. Lew, did Slover know how many men got out?” asked Jonathan.
“He said not many. The redskins killed all the prisoners exceptin’ Crawford and Knight.”
“I saw Col. Crawford burned at the stake. I did not see Dr. Knight. Maybe they murdered him before I reached the camp of the Delawares,” said Jonathan.
“Wetzel, in your judgment, what effect will this massacre and Crawford’s death have on the border?” inquired Col. Zane.
“It means another bloody year like 1777,” answered Wetzel.
“We are liable to have trouble with the Indians any day. You mean that.”
“There’ll be war all along the river. Hamilton is hatchin’ some new devil’s trick with Girty. Col. Zane, I calkilate that Girty has a spy in the river settlements and knows as much about the forts and defense as you do.”
“You can’t mean a white spy.”
“Yes, just that.”
“That is a strong assertion, Lewis, but coming from you it means something. Step aside here and explain yourself,” said Col. Zane, getting up and walking out to the fence.
“I don’t like the looks of things,” said the hunter. “A month ago I ketched this man Miller pokin’ his nose round the block-house where he hadn’t ought to be. And I kep’ watchin’ him. If my suspicions is correct he’s playin’ some deep game. I ain’t got any proof, but things looks bad.”
“That’s strange, Lewis,” said Col. Zane soberly. “Now that you mention it I remember Jonathan said he met Miller near the Kanawha three weeks ago. That was when Crawford’s expedition was on the way to the Shawnee villages. The Colonel tried to enlist Miller, but Miller said he was in a hurry to get back to the Fort. And he hasn’t come back yet.”
“I ain’t surprised. Now, Col. Zane, you are in command here. I’m not a soldier and for that reason I’m all the better to watch Miller. He won’t suspect me. You give me authority and I’ll round up his little game.”
“By all means, Lewis. Go about it your own way, and report anything to me. Remember you may be mistaken and give Miller the benefit of the doubt. I don’t like the fellow. He has a way of appearing and disappearing, and for no apparent reason, that makes me distrust him. But for Heaven’s sake, Lew, how would he profit by betraying us?”
“I don’t know. All I know is he’ll bear watchin’.”
“My gracious, Lew Wetzel!” exclaimed Betty as her brother and the hunter rejoined the others. “Have you come all the way over here without a gun? And you have on a new suit of buckskin.”
Lewis stood a moment by Betty, gazing down at her with his slight smile. He looked exceedingly well. His face was not yet bronzed by summer suns. His long black hair, of which he was as proud as a woman could have been, and of which he took as much care as he did of his rifle, waved over his shoulders.
“Betty, this is my birthday, but that ain’t the reason I’ve got my fine feathers on. I’m goin’ to try and make an impression on you,” replied Lewis, smiling.
“I declare, this is very sudden. But you have succeeded. Who made the suit? And where did you get all that pretty fringe and those beautiful beads?”
“That stuff I picked up round an Injun camp. The suit I made myself.”
“I think, Lewis, I must get you to help me make my new gown,” said Betty, roguishly.
“Well, I must be getting’ back,” said Wetzel, rising.
“Oh, don’t go yet. You have not talked to me at all,” said Betty petulantly. She walked to the gate with him.
“What can an Injun hunter say to amuse the belle of the border?”
“I don’t want to be amused exactly. I mean I’m not used to being unnoticed, especially by you.” And then in a lower tone she continued: “What did you mean about Mr. Miller? I heard his name and Eb looked worried. What did you tell him?”
“Never mind now, Betty. Maybe I’ll tell you some day. It’s enough for you to know the Colonel don’t like Miller and that I think he is a bad man. You don’t care nothin’ for Miller, do you Betty?”
“Not in the least.”
“Don’t see him any more, Betty. Good-night, now, I must be goin’ to supper.”
“Lew, stop! or I shall run after you.”
“And what good would your runnin’ do?” said Lewis “You’d never ketch me. Why, I could give you twenty paces start and beat you to yon tree.”
“You can’t. Come, try it,” retorted Betty, catching hold of her skirt. She could never have allowed a challenge like that to pass.
“Ha! ha! We are in for a race, Betty. If you beat him, start or no start, you will have accomplished something never done before,” said Col. Zane.
“Come, Silas, step off twenty paces and make them long ones,” said Betty, who was in earnest.
“We’ll make it forty paces,” said Silas, as he commenced taking immense strides.
“What is Lewis looking at?” remarked Col. Zane’s wife.
Wetzel, in taking his position for the race, had faced the river. Mrs. Zane had seen him start suddenly, straighten up and for a moment stand like a statue. Her exclamation drew he attention of the others to the hunter.
“Look!” he cried, waving his hand toward the river.
“I declare, Wetzel, you are always seeing something. Where