est and dryest spot in the camp, and all who
approached him did so with every sign of respect--if they spoke it was hat
in hand.
The firelight fell in a red blaze across the face of Francisco Alvarez and
revealed every feature in minute detail to the keen eyes in the covert. It
was a thin, haughty face, clear-cut and cruel, but just now it's air was
that of satisfaction, as if in the opinion of Francisco Alvarez all things
were going well with his plans. Henry believed that he could guess his
thoughts. "He thinks that the Spanish are already committed against us and
that he and Braxton Wyatt with a force of Spaniards and the tribes will
yet destroy our settlements in Kentucky."
Thinking of Braxton Wyatt he looked for him and, as he looked, the
renegade came from a point near the shore toward the commander. It was
evident that Wyatt had been faring well. His frontier dress had been
partly replaced with gay Spanish garments. He now wore a cap with a
feather in it, and a velvet doublet. He, too, had a most complacent look.
Wyatt approached Alvarez and the commander courteously invited him to a
seat on the hillock near him. When he took the seat a soldier brought the
renegade a cup of wine, and he drank, first lifting the cup toward Alvarez
as if he drank a toast to the success of the alliance. There could be no
doubt about the perfect understanding of the two; and Henry's anger rose.
It was impossible to set a limit to what a ruthless and determined man
like Francisco Alvarez might do.
Wyatt rose presently after a nod to the commander and walked among the
soldiers. He seemed to have no particular object in view and his
strollings brought him near to the edge of the swampy forest.
"Perhaps he's spying about, and will come into the woods where we are,"
whispered Henry. "Maybe he has those maps and plans upon him, and it would
be a great thing to get them. I don't believe he could make a new set
soon."
"It's a risky thing to try," said Shif'less Sol, "but ef he comes in here,
an' you think it the best thing to do, I'm ready to help."
The two crouched a little lower and remained breathless. Braxton Wyatt
strolled on. He was making a sort of vague inspection of the camp, but he
was really thinking more about the great triumph that he saw ahead. Since
he had turned renegade, leaving his own white race to join the Indians, a
thing that was sometimes done, he had been stung by many defeats and he
wished a great reven
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