ind
you, he did not tell me that. I saw it in his eyes. It wouldn't
surprise me to see him jump out of these bushes at any moment. I'm
looking for it. If he knows there are only three left, he'll be
after them like a hound on a trail. Girty must hurry. Where's he
taking you?"

"To the Delaware town."

"I don't suppose the chiefs will let any harm befall you; but Kate
and I would be better off dead. If we can only delay the march,
Wetzel will surely return."

"Hush! Girty's up."

The renegade staggered to an upright position, and leaned on the
Shawnee's arm. Evidently he had not been seriously injured, only
stunned. Covered with blood from a swollen, gashed lump on his
temple, he certainly presented a savage appearance.

"Where's the yellow-haired lass?" he demanded, pushing away
Silvertip's friendly arm. He glared around the glade. The Shawnee
addressed him briefly, whereupon he raged to and fro under the tree,
cursing with foam-flecked lips, and actually howling with baffled
rage. His fury was so great that he became suddenly weak, and was
compelled to sit down.

"She's safe, you villainous renegade!" cried Joe.

"Hush, Joe! Do not anger him. It can do no good," interposed Jim.

"Why not? We couldn't be worse off," answered Joe.

"I'll git her, I'll git her agin," panted Girty. "I'll keep her, an'
she'll love me."

The spectacle of this perverted wretch speaking as if he had been
cheated out of love was so remarkable, so pitiful, so monstrous,
that for a moment Joe was dumbfounded.

"Bah! You white-livered murderer!" Joe hissed. He well knew it was
not wise to give way to his passion; but he could not help it. This
beast in human guise, whining for love, maddened him. "Any white
woman on earth would die a thousand deaths and burn for a million
years afterward rather than love you!"

"I'll see you killed at the stake, beggin' fer mercy, an' be feed
fer buzzards," croaked the renegade.

"Then kill me now, or you may slip up on one of your cherished
buzzard-feasts," cried Joe, with glinting eye and taunting voice.
"Then go sneaking back to your hole like a hyena, and stay there.
Wetzel is on your trail! He missed you last night; but it was
because of the girl. He's after you, Girty; he'll get you one of
these days, and when he does--My God!---"

Nothing could be more revolting than that swarthy, evil face turned
pale with fear. Girty's visage was a ghastly, livid white. So
earnest, so intense was Joe'