w
it is only a forlorn chance, but still it is a chance. Let me take
it. I would rather die that way than remain here and wait for
death."

"Silas, it ain't a bad plan," broke in Wetzel. "Betty can run like a
deer. And bein' a woman they may let her get to the cabin without
shootin'."

Silas stood with arms folded across his broad chest. As he gazed at
his sister great tears coursed down his dark cheeks and splashed on
the hands which so tenderly clasped his own. Betty stood before him
transformed; all signs of weariness had vanished; her eyes shone
with a fateful resolve; her white and eager face was surpassingly
beautiful with its light of hope, of prayer, of heroism.

"Let me go, brother. You know I can run, and oh! I will fly today.
Every moment is precious. Who knows? Perhaps Capt. Boggs is already
near at hand with help. You cannot spare a man. Let me go."

"Betty, Heaven bless and save you, you shall go," said Silas.

"No! No! Do not let her go!" cried Clarke, throwing himself before
them. He was trembling, his eyes were wild, and he had the
appearance of a man suddenly gone mad.

"She shall not go," he cried.

"What authority have you here?" demanded Silas Zane, sternly. "What
right have you to speak?"

"None, unless it is that I love her and I will go for her," answered
Alfred desperately.

"Stand back!" cried Wetzel, placing his powerful hard on Clarke's
breast and pushing him backward. "If you love her you don't want to
have her wait here for them red devils," and he waved his hand
toward the river. "If she gets back she'll save the Fort. If she
fails she'll at least escape Girty."

Betty gazed into the hunter's eyes and then into Alfred's. She
understood both men. One was sending her out to her death because he
knew it would be a thousand times more merciful than the fate which
awaited her at the hands of the Indians. The other had not the
strength to watch her go to her death. He had offered himself rather
than see her take such fearful chances.

"I know. If it were possible you would both save me," said Betty,
simply. "Now you can do nothing but pray that God may spare my life
long enough to reach the gate. Silas, I am ready."

Downstairs a little group of white-faced men were standing before
the gateway. Silas Zane had withdrawn the iron bar. Sullivan stood
ready to swing in the ponderous gate. Wetzel was speaking with a
clearness and a rapidity which were wonderful under the
circumstanc