ere could be simply condemning him to death by Lynch's law."

_I wish it could be that simple._ Remembering the cool reception he'd
gotten in Victor when he went there to outfit the _Victory_ for the war,
Raoul began to have second thoughts about whether things would go his
way.

_I'll have to get my Smith County boys together and make sure Cooper
runs that trial right._

Raoul stole a glance at Auguste and saw that his face was set in that
hard, expressionless mold Indians took on when they didn't want to show
what they were feeling.

Scott said, "Send a good officer and a couple of men to Victor to escort
this man and insure a fair trial."

"Right, sir," said Zachary Taylor, making a note. "Lieutenant Jefferson
Davis and two enlisted men will go along with him."

_Damn!_ Taylor had jumped at the chance to send Lieutenant Davis away
from the fort, Raoul thought with annoyance. The gossip around Fort
Crawford was that Davis was courting Taylor's pretty daughter, and
Taylor didn't approve.

Scott turned his gaze on Raoul. "And you, Colonel de Marion. By all
accounts you're a very prominent citizen in that community. It's obvious
there's bad blood between you and your nephew. I'll hold you responsible
if there's any violence against him."

"Understood, sir," said Raoul, calmly enough, but hating to hear the
mongrel called his nephew. Scott's threat was empty; once the general
was back East he wouldn't care about the fate of one half-breed out on
the frontier.

Scott turned to Auguste with a small smile. "While you are on trial,
I'll be negotiating a treaty with the Sauk. And after that, if they
don't hang you, I think President Jackson would be most interested in
meeting you."

A treaty? A meeting with Jackson? Raoul quivered with anger and could
barely keep himself from letting out a shout. Did that mean Scott wasn't
going to hang Black Hawk and the rest of them? Was he taking the Sauk
leaders to meet the President?

_Well, if he does, the mongrel won't be with them_, Raoul thought,
comforting himself with the picture of a hempen rope around Auguste's
neck.

* * * * *

_My baby!_

Auguste felt as heavy as if he had turned to stone. He sat hunched over
on the plank bed covered with a corn-husk mattress, in his cell in
Victor's village hall, clutching his stomach as tears ran from his eyes.

After what Frank Hopkins had just told him, he no longer cared what
happened to h