to intercept the three Indians. It
would have seemed to anyone who was not aware of the presence of friends
in the forest that the old man and the boy would surely be overtaken and
be tomahawked, but three rifles suddenly flashed among the foliage. Two
of the warriors in the group of four fell, and a third uttered a yell
of pain. Paul and Shif'less Sol fired at the same time at the group of
three. One fell before the deadly rifle of Shif'less Sol, but Paul only
grazed his man. Nevertheless, the whole pursuit stopped, and the boy
and the old man escaped to the forest, and subsequently to safety at the
Moravian towns.

Paul, watching the happy effect of the shots, was about to say something
to Shif'less Sol, when an immense force was hurled upon him, and he was
thrown to the ground. His comrade was served in the same way, but the
shiftless one was uncommonly strong and agile. He managed to writhe half
way to his knees, and he shouted in a tremendous voice:

"Run, Henry, run! You can't do anything for us now!"

Braxton Wyatt struck him fiercely across the mouth. The blood came,
but the shiftless one merely spat it out, and looked curiously at the
renegade.

"I've often wondered about you, Braxton," he said calmly. "I used to
think that anybody, no matter how bad, had some good in him, but I
reckon you ain't got none."

Wyatt did not answer, but rushed forward in search of the others.
But Henry, Silent Tom, and Long Jim had vanished. A powerful party
of warriors had stolen upon Shif'less Sol and Paul, while they were
absorbed in the chase of the old man and the boy, and now they were
prisoners, bound securely. Braxton Wyatt came back from the fruitless
search for the three, but his face was full of savage joy as he looked
down at the captured two.

"We could have killed you just as easily," he said, "but we didn't
want to do that. Our friends here are going to have their fun with you
first."

Paul's cheeks whitened a little at the horrible suggestion, but
Shif'less Sol faced them boldly. Several white men in uniform had come
up, and among them was an elderly one, short and squat, and with a great
flame colored handkerchief tied around his bead.

"You may burn us alive, or you may do other things jest ez bad to us,
all under the English flag," said Shif'less Sol, "but I'm thinkin' that
a lot o' people in England will be ashamed uv it when they hear the
news."

"Indian" Butler and his uniformed soldiers turned aw