t. When he made up his mind at last
that bein' as I wasn't going to send him under, he might as well take
what I give him, he done it."

"Did he say anything?"

"Not a word; I thought maybe he'd pick up his knife ag'in, but he done
nothin' of the kind; he didn't even look to where it had fallen when I
knocked it out of his hand, but walked off in the woods, and that was
the last of him. Parson," said the scout, with a grave expression,
looking him calmly in the face, "I want to ask you a question."

"Why, Simon, my good man, you may ask me anything you choose."

"Where was you when The Panther and me was having our little argyment?"

"I went directly back to the Shawanoe camp and stayed there till he
returned with word that I might depart with Mabel."

"Sure you wasn't nowhere near us?"

"No nearer than what I have just told you."

The ranger paddled a moment in silence.

"Bein' as you say so, that settles it."

The missionary, who was watching his friend closely, now said:

"Since I have answered your question, Simon, it is right that I should
know why you ask it."

"Wal, it's this: Just as I had The Panther down, and was 'bout to finish
the bus'ness, I heard you speak."

"Heard me speak? And what did I say?"

"'Show him mercy, and mercy shall be shown unto you when you need it;'
so what could I do but let him up?"

The good man understood the incident better than did Kenton himself.

"But," he said, gently, "I have just explained that I was too far from
you for me to make myself heard."

"Whose voice was it, then?"

"The voice of Conscience, Simon, or the whisperings of God. It may have
sounded louder to you just then than usual, but it was not the first
time it has sounded in your ear, reproving you when you have done wrong,
and commending you when you have done right. Listen and heed what it
tells you, Simon, and no matter what comes, all shall be well with you."

The missionary saw that his words had made a strong impression, and he
was wise in saying no more.

The ranger headed the course for a point that would land them
considerably below where the friends in the flatboat were awaiting their
coming. Finley, after noting the fact, remarked:

"You are doing it on purpose, Simon."

"Of course; some of the varmints are watchin'."

The object, as the reader will perceive, was to make the Shawanoes
believe the fugitives had shifted their position further down stream.
Since Boone was with th