even admitting that the colony took
the matter in hand and made a stir about it?"

"If that man should be Judith Hutter's husband, after what has passed, I
might tell enough, at least, to put the colony on the trail."

"You!--half-grown, venison-hunting bantling! You dare to think of
informing against Hurry Harry in so much as a matter touching a mink or
a woodchuck!"

"I would dare to speak truth, Hurry, consarning you or any man that ever
lived."

March looked at his companion, for a moment, in silent amazement; then
seizing him by the throat with both hands, he shook his comparatively
slight frame with a violence that menaced the dislocation of some of the
bones. Nor was this done jocularly, for anger flashed from the giant's
eyes, and there were certain signs that seemed to threaten much more
earnestness than the occasion would appear to call for. Whatever might
be the real intention of March, and it is probable there was none
settled in his mind, it is certain that he was unusually aroused; and
most men who found themselves throttled by one of a mould so gigantic,
in such a mood, and in a solitude so deep and helpless, would have felt
intimidated, and tempted to yield even the right. Not so, however, with
Deerslayer. His countenance remained unmoved; his hand did not shake,
and his answer was given in a voice that did not resort to the artifice
of louder tones, even by way of proving its owner's resolution.

"You may shake, Hurry, until you bring down the mountain," he said
quietly, "but nothing beside truth will you shake from me. It is
probable that Judith Hutter has no husband to slay, and you may never
have a chance to waylay one, else would I tell her of your threat, in
the first conversation I held with the gal."

March released his grip, and sat regarding the other in silent
astonishment.

"I thought we had been friends," he at length added; "but you've got the
last secret of mine that will ever enter your ears."

"I want none, if they are to be like this. I know we live in the woods,
Hurry, and are thought to be beyond human laws,--and perhaps we are
so, in fact, whatever it may be in right,--but there is a law and a
law-maker, that rule across the whole continent. He that flies in the
face of either need not call me a friend."

"Damme, Deerslayer, if I do not believe you are at heart a Moravian, and
no fair-minded, plain-dealing hunter, as you've pretended to be!"

"Fair-minded or not, Hurry, y