t up. The slaver laughed.

"So, Peter Smith," he said, "you've decided to come back a second time.
I knew that you couldn't stay away always from such a good, kind captain
as I am. I saw the light of welcome in your eyes when we met so
unexpectedly at the George Inn, and I decided that it was only a
question of time until you came into my service again."

Robert stared at him. His mind, which would not work hitherto, recovered
its power with great suddenness. All his faculties were keen and alert,
and they cooerdinated smoothly and perfectly. He had been trapped. He had
been struck from behind, while he pursued Garay with such eagerness. He
had been careless, and once more he was in the power of the slaver. And
there was the spy, too, in the prow of the boat, with his back to him,
but that very back seemed to express insolent triumph. He felt a great
sinking of the heart, but in a few moments recalled his courage. His was
a spirit that could not be crushed. His head still ached and he was a
prisoner, but his courage was invincible, and he put on a light manner.

"Yes, I've come back," he said. "You see, Captain, there are some things
concerning you of which I'm not sure, and I couldn't part from you
permanently until I learned them."

"I'm glad of it, Peter. You've an inquiring mind, I know, and you'll
have plenty of opportunity to learn everything about me. We're likely to
be together for quite a while."

Robert looked around. He was in a long boat, and there were four
oarsmen, stout fellows, rough of looks and with hangers and pistols in
their belts. Garay and the captain completed the party, and both the
slaver and the spy were armed heavily. He saw that he had no earthly
chance of escape at present, and he resigned himself for the moment. The
slaver read his look.

"I'm glad, Peter," he said, "that you've given up the thought of leaving
us that was flitting around in your head a minute or two ago. You're in
a better state of mind now, and it was not possible anyway. Nor will
there be any storm to send you away from me again. A chance like that
wouldn't happen once in a hundred times. I suppose you understand where
you are."

"I'm in a boat a few miles above Albany, and I think that before long
you'll turn and go back down the stream."

"Why, Peter?"

"Because there's nothing for you to go to up the stream. If you kept on
you'd arrive in the Indian country, and I doubt whether that's any part
of your plan.