t his
own hand on the bar.

"'Who's there?' he asked.

"'Let me in, McLeod. It's Landley. Quick! Open the gate, or I'll be
killed!'

"McLeod's hesitation vanished. He opened the gate. A man stumbled in.
Then the gate was shut with a bang.

"'What's this about, Landley?' McLeod said, sternly. 'What trouble
have you got yourself into now?'

"I knew Landley for a white man who had abandoned himself to a
shiftless, vicious life with the Indians. He had sunk lower, even,
than they. He was an evil, worthless, ragged fellow, despised within
the fort and respected nowhere. But while he stood there, gasping and
terror-stricken, I pitied him; and it may be McLeod himself was
stirred by the mere kinship of colour.

"'Speak up, man!' he commanded. 'What have you done?'

"'I've done no wrong,' Landley whimpered. 'Buffalo Horn's young son
has died, and they put the blame on me. They say I've cast the evil
eye on him. They say I killed him with a spell. You know me, McLeod.
You know I haven't got the evil eye. Don't turn me out, man. They're
coming to kill me. Don't give me up. You know I'm not blood-guilty.
You know me. You know I haven't got the evil eye.'

"'Tush, man!' said McLeod. 'Is that all the trouble?'

"'That's all!' Landley cried. 'I've done no harm. Don't give me up to
them.'

"'I won't,' McLeod said, positively. 'You're safe here until they
prove you blood-guilty. I'll not give you up.'"

Old David Grey paused; and Jimmie demanded:

"Did they give un up?"

"Was they _wild_ Indians?" Bagg gasped.

David laughed. "You just wait and see," said he.

-----

[3] Billy Topsail's reasons were no doubt connected with an
encounter with a gigantic devil-fish at Birds' Nest Islands, as
related in "The Adventures of Billy Topsail."

CHAPTER XIII

_In Which There Are Too Many Knocks At the Gate, a
Stratagem Is Successful, Red Feather Draws a Tomahawk, and
an Indian Girl Appears On the Scene_

"McLeod turned on his heel and went to the shop," David continued;
"and when he had ordered a watch to be kept on the clearing on all
sides, we devoted ourselves to the matter in hand--the preparation of
the regular quarterly statement for the officials at headquarters. But
as we laboured, hatchets, knives and the cruel, evil faces of the
savages, by whom, as I chose to think, we were threatened, mixed
themselves with the figures, to my bewilderment.

"Soon the dusk came, and while I