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you in them high rushes right where you were makin' fer," said Wetzel. Then he

shouldered his rifle and walked rapidly away.
"Oh, he cannot be serious!" cried Betty. "Oh, how foolish am I."

"Get back up from the river, everybody," commanded Col. Zane.
"Col. Zane," said Clarke, walking beside the Colonel up the bank, "I saw

Wetzel watching the island in a manner that I thought odd, under the
circumstances, and I watched too. Presently I saw a dark form dart behind a

bush. I went over and told Wetzel, and he said there were Indians on the
island."

"This is most d--n strange," said Col. Zane, frowning heavily. "Wetzel's
suspicions, Miller turns up, teases Betty attempting that foolhardy trick, and

then--Indians! It may be a coincidence, but it looks bad."
"Col. Zane, don't you think Wetzel may be mistaken?" said Miller, coming up.

"I came over from the other side this morning and I did not see any Indian
sign. Probably Wetzel has caused needless excitement."

"It does not follow that because you came from over the river there are no
Indians there," answered Col. Zane, sharply. "Do you presume to criticise

Wetzel's judgment?"
"I saw an Indian!" cried Clarke, facing Miller with blazing eyes. "And if you

say I did not, you lie! What is more, I believe you know more than any one
else about it. I watched you. I saw you were uneasy and that you looked across

the river from time to time. Perhaps you had better explain to Col. Zane the
reason you taunted his sister into attempting that ride."

With a snarl more like that of a tiger than of a human being, Miller sprang at
Clarke. His face was dark with malignanthatred, as he reached for and drew an

ugly knife. There were cries of fright from the children and screams from the
women. Alfred stepped aside with the wonderful quickness of the trained boxer

and shot out his right arm. His fist caught Miller a hard blow on the head,
knocking him down and sending the knife flying in the air.

It had all happened so quickly that everyone was as if paralyzed. The settlers
stood still and watched Miller rise slowly to his feet.

"Give me my knife!" he cried hoarsely" target="_blank" title="ad.嘶哑地">hoarsely. The knife had fallen at the feet of
Major McColloch, who had concealed it with his foot.

"Let this end right here," ordered Col. Zane. "Clarke, you have made a very
strong statement. Have you anything to substantiate your words?"

"I think I have," said Clarke. He was standing erect, his face white and his
eyes like blue steel. "I knew him at Ft. Pitt. He was a liar and a drunkard

there. He was a friend of the Indians and of the British. What he was there he
must be here. It was Wetzel who told me to watch him. Wetzel and I both think

he knew the Indians were on the island."
"Col. Zane, it is false," said Miller, huskily. "He is trying to put you

against me. He hates me because your sister--"
"You cur!" cried Clarke, striking at Miller. Col. Zane struck up the

infuriated young man's arm.
"Give us knives, or anything," panted Clarke.

"Yes, let us fight it out now," said Miller.
"Capt. Boggs, take Clarke to the block-house. Make him stay there if you have

to lock him up," commanded Col. Zane. "Miller, as for you, I cannot condemn
you without proof. If I knew positively that there were Indians on the island

and that you were aware of it, you would be a dead man in less time than it
takes to say it. I will give you the benefit of the doubt and twenty-four

hours to leave the Fort."
The villagers dispersed and went to their homes. They were inclined to take

Clarke's side. Miller had become disliked. His drinking habits and his
arrogant and bold manner had slowly undermined the friendships he had made

during the early part of his stay at Ft. Henry; while Clarke's good humor and
willingness to help any one, his gentleness with the children, and his several

acts of heroism had strengthened their regard.
"Jonathan, this looks like some of Girty's work. I wish I knew the truth,"

said Col. Zane, as he, his brothers and Betty and Myeerah entered the house.
"Confound it! We can't have even one afternoon of enjoyment. I must see Lewis.

I cannot be sure of Clarke. He is evidently bitter against Miller. That would
have been a terrible fight. Those fellows have had trouble before, and I am

afraid we have not seen the last of their quarrel."
"If they meet again--but how can you keep them apart?" said Silas. "If Miller

leaves the Fort without killing Clarke he'll hide around in the woods and wait
for a chance to shoot him."

"Not with Wetzel here," answered Col. Zane. "Betty, do you see what your--" he
began, turning to his sister, but when he saw her white and miserable face he

said no more.
"Don't mind, Betts. It wasn't any fault of yours," said Isaac, putting his arm

tenderly round the trembling girl. "I for another believe Clarke was right
when he said Miller knew there were Indians over the river. It looks like a

plot to abduct you. Have no fear for Alfred. He can take care of himself. He
showed that pretty well."

An hour later Clarke had finished his supper and was sitting by his window
smoking his pipe. His anger had cooled somewhat and his reflections were not

of the pleasantest kind. He regretted that he lowered himself so far as to
fight with a man little better than an outlaw. Still there was a grim

satisfaction in the thought of the blow he had given Miller. He remembered he
had asked for a knife and that his enemy and he be permitted to fight to the

death. After all to have ended, then and there, the feud between them would
have been the better course; for he well knew Miller's desperate character,

that he had killed more than one white man, and that now a fair fight might
not be possible. Well, he thoughts what did it matter? He was not going to

worry himself. He did not care much, one way or another. He had no home; he
could not make one without the woman he loved. He was a Soldier of Fortune; he

was at the mercy of Fate, and he would drift along and let what came be
welcome. A soft footfall on the stairs and a knock on the door interrupted his

thoughts.
"Come in," he said.

The door opened and Wetzel strode into the room.
"I come over to say somethin' to you," said the huntertaking the chair by the

window and placing his rifle over his knee.
"I will be pleased to listen or talk, as you desire," said Alfred.

"I don't mind tellin' you that the punch you give Miller was what he deserved.
If he and Girty didn't hatch up that trick to ketch Betty, I don't know

nothin'. But we can't prove nothin' on him yet. Mebbe he knew about the
redskins; mebbe he didn't. Personally, I think he did. But I can't kill a

white man because I think somethin'. I'd have to know fer sure. What I want to
say is to put you on your guard against the baddest man on the river."

"I am aware of that," answered Alfred. "I knew his record at Ft. Pitt. What
would you have me do?"

"Keep close till he's gone."
"That would be cowardly."

"No, it wouldn't. He'd shoot you from behind some tree or cabin."
"Well, I'm much obliged to you for your kind advice, but for all that I won't

stay in the house," said Alfred, beginning to wonder at the hunter's earnest
manner.

"You're in love with Betty, ain't you?"
The question came with Wetzel's usual bluntness and it staggered Alfred. He

could not be angry, and he did not know what to say. The hunter went on:
"You needn't say so, because I know it. And I know she loves you and that's

why I want you to look out fer Miller."
"My God! man, you're crazy," said Alfred, laughing scornfully. "She cares

nothing for me."
"That's your great failin', young feller. You fly off'en the handle too easy.

And so does Betty. You both care fer each other and are unhappy about it. Now,
you don't know Betty, and she keeps misunderstandin' you."

"For Heaven's sake! Wetzel, if you know anything tell me. Love her? Why, the
words are weak! I love her so well that an hour ago I would have welcomed

death at Miller's hands only to fall and die at her feet defending her. Your
words set me on fire. What right have you to say that? How do you know?"

The hunter leaned forward and put his hand on Alfred's shoulder. On his pale
face was that sublime light which comes to great souls when they give up a

life long secret, or when they sacrifice what is best beloved. His broad chest
heaved: his deep voice trembled.

"Listen. I'm not a man fer words, and it's hard to tell. Betty loves you. I've
carried her in my arms when she was a baby. I've made her toys and played with

her when she was a little girl. I know all her moods. I can read her like I do
the moss, and the leaves, and the bark of the forest. I've loved her all my

life. That's why I know she loves you. I can feel it. Her happiness is the
only dear thing left on earth fer me. And that's why I'm your friend."

In the silence that followed his words the door opened and closed and he was
gone.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Betty awoke with a start. She was wide awake in a second. The moonbeams came

through the leaves of the maple tree near her window and cast fantastic
shadows on the wall of her room. Betty lay quiet, watching the fairy-like

figures on the wall and listening intently. What had awakened her? The night
was still; the crow of a cock in the distance proclaimed that the hour of dawn

was near at hand. She waited for Tige's bark under her window, or Sam's voice,
or the kicking and trampling of horses in the barn--sounds that usually broke

her slumbers in the morning. But no such noises were forthcoming. Suddenly she
heard a light, quick tap, tap, and then a rattling in the corner. It was like

no sound but that made by a pebblestriking the floor, bounding and rolling
across the room. There it was again. Some one was tossing stones in at her

window. She slipped out of bed, ran, and leaned on the window-sill and looked
out. The moon was going down behind the hill, but there was light enough for

her to distinguish objects. She saw a dark figure crouching by the fence.
"Who is it?" said Betty, a little frightened, but more curious.

"Sh-h-h, it's Miller," came the answer, spoken in low voice.
The bent form straightened and stood erect. It stepped forward under Betty's

window. The light was dim, but Betty recognized the dark face of Miller. He
carried a rifle in his hand and a pack on his shoulder.

"Go away, or I'll call my brother. I will not listen to you," said Betty,
making a move to leave the window.

"Sh-h-h, not so loud," said Miller, in a quick, hoarsewhisper. "You'd better
listen. I am going across the border to join Girty. He is going to bring the

Indians and the British here to burn the settlement. If you will go away with
me I'll save the lives of your brothers and their families. I have aided Girty

and I have influence with him. If you won't go you'll be taken captive and
you'll see all your friends and relatives scalped and burned. Quick, your

answer."
"Never, traitor! Monster! I'd be burned at the stake before I'd go a step with

you!" cried Betty.
"Then remember that you've crossed a desperate man. If you escape the massacre

you will beg on your knees to me. This settlement is doomed. Now, go to your
white-faced lover. You'll find him cold. Ha! Ha! Ha!" and with a taunting

laugh he leaped the fence and disappeared in the gloom.
Betty sank to the floor stunned, horrified. She shuddered at the malignity

expressed in Miller's words. How had she ever been deceived in him? He was in
league with Girty. At heart he was a savage, a renegade. Betty went over his

words, one by one.
"Your white-faced lover. You will find him cold," whispered Betty. "What did

he mean?"
Then came the thought. Miller had murdered Clarke. Betty gave one agonized

quiver, as if a knife had been thrust into her side, and then her paralyzed
limbs recovered the power of action. She flew out into the passage-way and

pounded on her brother's door.
"Eb! Eb! Get up! Quickly, for God's sake!" she cried. A smothered exclamation,

a woman's quick voice, the heavy thud of feet striking the floor followed
Betty's alarm. Then the door opened.

"Hello, Betts, what's up?" said Col. Zane, in his rapid voice.
At the same moment the door at the end of the hall opened and Isaac came out.

"Eb, Betty, I heard voices out doors and in the house. What's the row?"
"Oh, Isaac! Oh, Eb! Something terrible has happened!" cried Betty,

breathlessly.
"Then it is no time to get excited," said the Colonel, calmly. He placed his

arm round Betty and drew her into the room. "Isaac, get down the rifles. Now,
Betty, time is precious. Tell me quickly, briefly."

"I was awakened by a stone rolling on the floor. I ran to the window and saw a
man by the fence. He came under my window and I saw it was Miller. He said he

was going to join Girty. He said if I would go with him he would save the
lives of all my relatives. If I would not they would all be killed, massacred,

burned alive, and I would be taken away as his captive. I told him I'd rather
die before I'd go with him. Then he said we were all doomed, and that my

white-faced lover was already cold. With that he gave a laugh which made my
flesh creep and ran on toward the river. Oh! he has murdered Mr. Clarke."

"Hell! What a fiend!" cried Col. Zane, hurriedly getting into his clothes.
"Betts, you had a gun in there. Why didn't you shoot him? Why didn't I pay



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