as could be arranged. As it
was impossible to say beforehand precisely when The Panther would be due
in camp, it was his order that the decision of the question should be
left wholly with the missionary.

When he should declare to the leading Shawanoes that the time that had
elapsed was so great that it was certain Wa-on-mon had been overthrown
and would not come back to his warriors, then the missionary was free to
take the little captive by the hand and walk away, and no one should say
them nay.

It was an unprecedented compliment in respect to the integrity and honor
of the good man; but, oh, what a temptation, when it promised to settle
the question of life and death for the precious child!

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE RETURN.

The interview between Missionary Finley and the Shawanoe chieftain had
been prolonged; it was of the first importance. Many things that this
narrative does not require should be recorded passed between them, and
the hour was far advanced when the decision was reached; it was agreed
that the life of the little captive, Mabel Ashbridge, should be
determined by the result of the duel to the death between Simon Kenton
and Wa-on-mon, known as The Panther.

Aware as was the missionary of the departure of the ranger at the moment
the flatboat was pushing from the Kentucky shore, he knew his course of
action as well as if he had watched his every movement.

"Throughout the whole interview he had scarcely removed his eyes from
Wa-on-mon and me," was the conclusion of Finley, and he was right.

"I will now go in search of the white hunter," he said, slightly
modifying his manner of speaking; "I shall soon find him, and he will be
at the rock."

"And when the sun rises he will find Wa-on-mon awaiting him there," said
the chieftain.

Waving his hand in a half-military fashion, as a salute not only to the
chief but to the leading Shawanoes, Finley turned about and walked away
in the forest.

He felt an almost irresistible yearning to go over to Mabel Ashbridge
and utter a few comforting words in her ear; but her own welfare
prevented anything of that nature. Besides, she had laid her weary head
down upon the bark and was sleeping as soundly as if resting on her
mother's bosom.

After leaving the Shawanoe camp, the missionary directed his steps
toward the Ohio, where he had left his canoe. There was no call for
secrecy in his movements, and he tramped through the bushes and
undergrowth as