red at him, nor was he able to
detect anything that could give him the least information of what his
enemies were doing, or what they intended to do. They may have been
quite near, but he could not get the first glimpse of them.

"Dis yeah am gettin' ser'us," mused Jethro, leaning against the side of
the house in order to think more clearly. "I's afeard dat somethin' may
happen to Mr. Kenton, and if it does and he can't get back, nor me
neither, what's goin' to become of de folks? I 'spose dey am most
worried to def now."

[Illustration: JETHRO IN TROUBLE.]

Since it looked as if it would be impossible for him to leave the cabin
for an indefinite time, the anxiety of the dusky youth to do so
increased with every passing minute, until he formed the resolution to
make the attempt, no matter what the consequences might prove to
himself.

A dispassionate view of the situation would have pronounced Jethro as
useful to the pioneers in one place as in another. Possibly, it might
have been decided that it was better that he should remain away so long
as the peril remained imminent, despite the fact that he had already
done them most effective service.

Jethro could not so far forget the first law of human nature as not to
debate and hesitate for a considerable while before taking the decisive
step.

"I might leave de door open," he reflected, "so dat if any ob de heathen
are hangin' round de outside waitin' for a chance to shet me off, I kin
dodge back and slam de door in dar faces. Ef I don't see 'em till I git
too fur to run back, I kin dive into de woods or hide."

All this sounded well enough in theory, but the young man could not lose
sight of one thing: in point of fleetness he could not compare with any
of the Shawanoes. They could run him down, as may be said, in a
twinkling.

It was impossible for one so inexperienced as he to form a reasonable
guess of the intentions of the red men. It was curious, to say the
least, that one or two of them should linger in the vicinity of the
cabin after the departure of the pioneers for the block-house. Even
Simon Kenton could not have guessed their purpose.

"Dey couldn't hab seed me go in," thought Jethro, "for, if dey did, dey
would hab hollered to me and asked me who I was lookin' fur; I'd gib 'em
some sass, and den dar would hab been a row and some ha'r pullin'."

The youth leaned against the side of the apartment a brief while longer
in intense cogitation, and then