“I allow Joe won over Winds, got away from the Delaware town with her, tried to rescue Kate, and killed Silver in the fight.  Girty probably was surprised, an’ run after he had knifed the girl.”

“‘Pears so to me.  Joe had two knife cuts, an’ one was an old wound.”

“You say it was a bad fight?”

“Must hev been.  The hut was all knocked in, an’ stuff scattered about.  Wal, Joe could go some if he onct got started.”

“I’ll bet he could.  He was the likeliest lad I’ve seen for many a day.”

“If he’d lasted, he’d been somethin’ of a hunter an’ fighter.”

“Too bad.  But Lord! you couldn’t keep him down, no more than you can lots of these wild young chaps that drift out here.”

“I’ll allow he had the fever bad.”

“Did you hev time to bury them?”

“I hedn’t time fer much.  I sunk them in the spring.”

“It’s a pretty deep hole,” said Zane, reflectively.  “Then, you and the dog took Girty’s trail, but couldn’t catch up with him.  He’s now with the renegade cutthroats and hundreds of riled Indians over there in the Village of Peace.”

“I reckon you’re right.”

A long silence ensued.  Jonathan finished his simple repast, drank from the little spring that trickled under the stone, and, sitting down by the dog, smoothed out his long silken hair.

“Lew, we’re pretty good friends, ain’t we?” he asked, thoughtfully.

“Jack, you an’ the colonel are all the friends I ever hed, ‘ceptin’ that boy lyin’ quiet back there in the woods.”

“I know you pretty well, and ain’t sayin’ a word about your runnin’ off from me on many a hunt, but I want to speak plain about this fellow Girty.”

“Wal?” said Wetzel, as Zane hesitated.

“Twice in the last few years you and I have had it in for the same men, both white-livered traitors.  You remember?  First it was Miller, who tried to ruin my sister Betty, and next it was Jim Girty, who murdered our old friend, as good an old man as ever wore moccasins.  Wal, after Miller ran off from the fort, we trailed him down to the river, and I points across and says, ‘You or me?’ and you says, ‘Me.’  You was Betty’s friend, and I knew she’d be avenged.  Miller is lyin’ quiet in the woods, and violets have blossomed twice over his grave, though you never said a word; but I know it’s true because I know you.”

Zane looked eagerly into the dark face of his friend, hoping perhaps to get some verbal assurance there that his belief was true.  But Wetzel did not speak, and he continued: 

“Another day not so long ago we both looked down at an old friend, and saw his white hair matted with blood.  He’d been murdered for nothin’.  Again you and me trailed a coward and found him to be Jim Girty.  I knew you’d been huntin’ him for years, and so I says, ’Lew, you or me?’ and you says, ‘Me.’  I give in to you, for I knew you’re a better man than me, and