, an' away they'd go to some place they'd
took a fancy to, an' down they'd come, all of a heap, quite onexpected--
take their enemy by surprise, sweep him off the face o' the 'arth, and
enter into possession."

"Well, it would be a blue lookout," remarked Tolly, "if that was to be
the way of it. There wouldn't be many men left in the world before
long."

"That's true, lad, an' sitch as was left would be the worst o' the race.
No, on the whole I think we're better without wings."

While he was talking to little Trevor, the trapper had been watching the
countenance of the Indian boy with unusual interest. At last he turned
to him and asked--

"Has Leaping Buck nothin' to say?"

"When the white trapper speaks, the Indian's tongue should be silent,"
replied the youth.

"A good sentiment and does you credit, lad. But I am silent now. Has
Leaping Buck no remark to make on what he sees?"

"He sees the smoke of the robber's camp far up the heights," replied the
boy, pointing as he spoke.

"Clever lad!" exclaimed the trapper, "I know'd he was his father's son."

"Where? I can see nothing," cried Tolly, who understood the Indian
tongue sufficiently to make out the drift of the conversation.

"Of course ye can't; the smoke is too far off an' too thin for eyes not
well practised in the signs o' the wilderness. But come; we shall go
and pay the robbers a visit; mayhap disturb their rest a little--who
knows!"

With a quiet laugh, Mahoghany Drake withdrew from the rocky ledge, and,
followed by his eager satellites, continued to wend his way up the
rugged mountain-sides, taking care, however, that he did not again
expose himself to view, for well did he know that sharp eyes and ears
would be on the _qui vive_ that night.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

When Tom Brixton sternly set his face like a flint to what he believed
to be his duty, he wandered, as we have said, into the mountains, with a
heavy heart and without any definite intentions as to what he intended
to do.

If his thoughts had taken the form of words they would probably have run
somewhat as follows:--

"Farewell for ever, sweet Rose of Oregon! Dear Betty! You have been
the means, in God's hand, of saving at least one soul from death, and it
would be requiting you ill indeed were I to persuade you to unite
yourself to a man whose name is disgraced even among rough men, whose
estimate of character is not very high. No! henceforth our lives
diverge wide