ng his friends, who were all pleased to learn it had
gone so well with him.

Called upon to explain, he promptly did so in characteristic style:

"While dat little flurry dat didn't 'mount to nuffin' was gwine on 'long
shore, I seed one ob de heathen tryin' to run off wid de canoe. I wasn't
gwine to stand nuffin like dat, and I was b'iling mad. So I flopped
overboard and swam after de boat; de Injin seed me comin' and tried to
dodge, but I cotched him by de heels and whanged his head agin de canoe;
den I got in and paddled ashore and waited for yo' folks, and hyar I is,
and mighty glad to see yo' all."

No one deemed it worth while to contradict this wild yarn, and Jethro
naturally supposed it was believed.

"Friends," said Mr. Finley, amid the hush that fell upon all, "Mr. Boone
and I, after talking over the matter, have made a change of plan. I
shall cross the river to the other side and see what I can do, with the
help of Heaven, for the little child."

Mr. Ashbridge was impelled to question the wisdom of this step, for it
was hardly to be supposed that a man of peace, whose profession was the
opposite of those around him, was the best person to attempt the
perilous task; but, brief as was the acquaintance of all with the
missionary, he had won their confidence.

Besides, the scheme, whatever it was, had the guarantee of Boone himself
as to its wisdom, and was therefore beyond cavil.

"God go with you!" was the fervent exclamation of the father, as he took
the hand of the good man. "Would that I could help."

"Gladly would I take you if I saw any possible aid you could afford, but
the only aid, friends, that any of you can give me is your prayers."

"You will have them unceasingly," said Mrs. Ashbridge, clinging to the
hand of the missionary, as if he was her only earthly comforter.

"I dare not tell you to hope for the best," he said, unwilling to awaken
an expectation that was likely to be followed by bitter disappointment,
"but I can only add that whatever may come, try to say 'God's will be
done.' I shall count upon all of you remaining here until definite news
reaches you."

"Have no fear of our going before that," replied Mr. Altman; "we are
distressed as deeply as our friends, and can hardly bear the suspense."

As the missionary was stepping over the flatboat into the canoe, George
Ashbridge caught his arm, and plead in a low, earnest voice:

"I am sure I can be of some help; please take me. I c