grave, though you never said a word; but I know it's true because I know you."

Zane looked eagerly into the dark face of his friend, hoping perhaps to get
some verbalassurance there that his belief was true. But Wetzel did not

speak, and he continued:
"Another day not so long ago we both looked down at an old friend, and saw his

white hair matted with blood. He'd been murdered for nothin'. Again you and
me trailed a coward and found him to be Jim Girty. I knew you'd been huntin'

him for years, and so I says, 'Lew, you or me?' and you says, 'Me.'" I give in
to you, for I knew you're a better man than me, and because I wanted you to

have the satisfaction. Wal, the months have gone by, and Jim Girty's still
livin' and carryin' on. Now he's over there after them poor preachers. I ain't

sayin', Lew, that you haven't more agin him than me, but I do say, let me in
on it with you. He always has a gang of redskins with him; he's afraid to

travel alone, else you'd had him long ago. Two of us'll have more chance to
get him. Let me go with you. When it comes to a finish, I'll stand aside while

you give it to him. I'd enjoy seein' you cut him from shoulder to hip. After
he leaves the Village of Peace we'll hit his trail, camp on it, and stick to

it until it ends in his grave."
The earnest voice of the backwoodsman ceased. Both men rose and stood facing

each other. Zane's bronzed face was hard and tense, expressive of an
indomitable will; Wetzel's was coldly dark, with fateful resolve, as if his

decree of vengeance, once given, was as immutable as destiny. The big, horny
hands gripped in a viselike clasp born of fiercepassion, but no word was

spoken.
Far to the west somewhere, a befrilled and dedizened renegade pursued the wild

tenor of his ways; perhaps, even now steeping his soul in more crime, or
staining his hands a deeper red, but sleeping or waking, he dreamed not of

this deadlycompact that meant his doom.
The two hunters turned their stern faces toward the west, and passed silently

down the ridge into the depths of the forest. Darkness found them within
rifle-shot of the Village of Peace. With the dog creeping between them, they

crawled to a position which would, in daylight, command a view of the
clearing. Then, while one stood guard, the other slept.

When morning dawned they shifted their position to the top of a low,
fern-covered cliff, from which they could see every movement in the village.

All the morning they watched with that wonderful patience of men who knew how
to wait. The visiting savages were quiet, the missionaries moved about in and

out of the shops and cabins; the Christian indians worked industriously in the
fields, while the renegades lolled before a prominent teepee.

"This quiet looks bad," whispered Jonathan to Wetzel. No shouts were heard;
not a hostile Indian was seen to move.

"They've come to a decision," whispered Jonathan, and Wetzel answered him:
"If they hev, the Christians don't know it."

An hour later the deep pealing of the church bell broke the silence. The
entire band of Christian Indians gathered near the large log structure, and

then marched in orderly form toward the maple grove where the service was
always held in pleasant weather. This movement brought the Indians within

several hundred yards of the cliff where Zane and Wetzel lay concealed.
"There's Heckewelder walking with old man Wells," whispered Jonathan. "There's

Young and Edwards, and, yes, there's the young missionary, brother of Joe.
'Pears to me they're foolish to hold service in the face of all those riled

Injuns."
"Wuss'n foolish," answered Wetzel.

"Look! By gum! As I'm a livin' sinner there comes the whole crowd of hostile
redskins. They've got their guns, and--by Gum! they're painted. Looks bad,

bad! Not much friendliness about that bunch!"
"They ain't intendin' to be peaceable."

"By gum! You're right. There ain't one of them settin' down. 'Pears to me I
know some of them redskins. There's Pipe, sure enough, and Kotoxen. By gum!

If there ain't Shingiss; he was friendly once."
"None of them's friendly."

"Look! Lew, look! Right behind Pipe. See that long war-bonnet. As I'm a born
sinner, that's your old friend, Wingenund. 'Pears to me we've rounded up all

our acquaintances."
The two bordermen lay close under the tall ferns and watched the proceedings

with sharp eyes. They saw the converted Indians seat themselves before the
platform. The crowd of hostile Indians surrounded the glade on all sides,

except on, which, singularly enough, was next to the woods.
"Look thar!" exclaimed Wetzel, under his breath. He pointed off to the right

of the maple glade. Jonathan gazed in the direction indicated, and saw two
savages stealthily slipping through the bushes, and behind trees. Presently

these suspiciousacting spies, or scouts, stopped on a little knoll perhaps an
hundred yards from the glade.

Wetzel groaned.
"This ain't comfortable," growled Zane, in a low whisper. "Them red devils are

up to somethin' bad. They'd better not move round over here."
The hunters, satisfied that the two isolated savages meant mischief, turned

their gaze once more toward the maple grove.
"Ah! Simon you white traitor! See him, Lew, comin' with his precious gang,"

said Jonathan. "He's got the whole thing fixed, you can plainly see that. Bill
Elliott, McKee; and who's that renegade with Jim Girty? I'll allow he must be

the fellar we heard was with the Chippewas. Tough lookin' customer; a good
mate fer Jim Girty! A fine lot of border-hawks!"

"Somethin' comin' off," whispered Wetzel, as Zane's low growl grew
unintelligible.

Jonathan felt, rather than saw, Wetzel tremble.
"The missionaries are consultin'. Ah! there comes one! Which? I guess it's

Edwards. By gum! who's that Injun stalkin' over from the hostile bunch. Big
chief, whoever he is. Blest if it ain't Half King!"

The watchers saw the chief wave his arm and speak with evidentarrogance of
Edwards, who, however, advanced to the platform and raise his hand to address

the Christians.
"Crack!"

A shot rang out from the thicket. Clutching wildly at his breast, the
missionary reeled back, staggered, and fell.

"One of those skulkin' redskins has killed Edwards," said Zane. "But, no; he's
not dead! He's gettin' up. Mebbe he ain't hurt bad. By gum! there's Young

comin' forward. Of all the fools!"
It was indeed true that Young had faced the Indians. Half King addressed him

as he had the other; but Young raised his hand and began speaking.
"Crack!"

Another shot rang out. Young threw up his hands and fell heavily. The
missionaries rushed toward him. Mr. Wells ran round the group, wringing his

hands as if distracted.
"He's hard hit," hissed Zane, between his teeth. "You can tell that by the way

he fell."
Wetzel did not answer. He lay silent and motionless, his long body rigid, and

his face like marble.
"There comes the other young fellar--Joe's brother. He'll get plugged, too,"

continued Zane, whispering rather to himself than to his companion. "Oh, I
hoped they'd show some sense! It's noble for them to die for Christianity, but

it won't do no good. By gum! Heckewelder has pulled him back. Now, that's good
judgment!"

Half King stepped before the Christians and addressed them. He held in his
hand a black war-club, which he wielded as he spoke.

Jonathan's attention was now directed from the maple grove to the hunter
beside him. He had heard a slight metallic click, as Wetzel cocked his rifle.

Then he saw the black barrel slowly rise.
"Listen, Lew. Mebbe it ain't good sense. We're after Girty, you remember; and

it's a long shot from here--full three hundred yards."
"You're right, Jack, you're right," answered Wetzel, breathing hard.

"Let's wait, and see what comes off."
"Jack, I can't do it. It'll make our job harder; but I can't help it. I can

put a bullet just over the Huron's left eye, an' I'm goin' to do it."
"You can't do it, Lew; you can't! It's too far for any gun. Wait! Wait!"

whispered Jonathan, laying his hand on Wetzel's shoulder.
"Wait? Man, can't you see what the unnamable villain is doin'?"

"What?" asked Zane, turning his eyes again to the glade.