ters, the strength of the forts, the prospect of new
settlers that autumn, of the British policy, and finally of a journey
which Colonel Clark was soon to make back to Virginia across the
mountains. They seemed not to mind my presence. At length Colonel Clark
turned to me with that quiet, jocose way he had when relaxed.

"Davy," said he, "we'll see how much of a general you are. What would
you do if a scoundrel named Hamilton far away at Detroit was bribing all
the redskins he could find north of the Ohio to come down and scalp your
men?"

"I'd go for Hamilton," I answered.

"By God!" exclaimed Clark, striking Mr. Boone on the knee, "that's what
I'd do."

CHAPTER XI. FRAGMENTARY

Mr. Boone's visit lasted but a day. I was a great deal with Colonel
Clark in the few weeks that followed before his departure for Virginia.
He held himself a little aloof (as a leader should) from the captains
in the station, without seeming to offend them. But he had a fancy for
James Ray and for me, and he often took me into the woods with him by
day, and talked with me of an evening.

"I'm going away to Virginia, Davy," he said; "will you not go with me?
We'll see Williamsburg, and come back in the spring, and I'll have you a
little rifle made."

My look must have been wistful.

"I can't leave Polly Ann and Tom," I answered.

"Well," he said, "I like that. Faith to your friends is a big equipment
for life."

"But why are you going?" I asked.

"Because I love Kentucky best of all things in the world," he answered,
smiling.

"And what are you going to do?" I insisted.

"Ah," he said, "that I can't tell even to you."

"To catch Hamilton?" I ventured at random.

He looked at me queerly.

"Would you go along, Davy?" said he, laughing now.

"Would you take Tom?"

"Among the first," answered Colonel Clark, heartily.

We were seated under the elm near the spring, and at that instant I
saw Tom coming toward us. I jumped up, thinking to please him by this
intelligence, when Colonel Clark pulled me down again.

"Davy," said he, almost roughly, I thought, "remember that we have been
joking. Do you understand?--joking. You have a tongue in your mouth,
but sense enough in your head, I believe, to hold it." He turned to Tom.
"McChesney, this is a queer lad you brought us," said he.

"He's a little deevil," agreed Tom, for that had become a formula with
him.

It was all very mysterious to me, and I lay awake many a night wi