“Come in,” he said.

The door opened and Wetzel strode into the room.

“I come over to say somethin’ to you,” said the hunter taking the chair by the window and placing his rifle over his knee.

“I will be pleased to listen or talk, as you desire,” said Alfred.

“I don’t mind tellin’ you that the punch you give Miller was what he deserved.  If he and Girty didn’t hatch up that trick to ketch Betty, I don’t know nothin’.  But we can’t prove nothin’ on him yet.  Mebbe he knew about the redskins; mebbe he didn’t.  Personally, I think he did.  But I can’t kill a white man because I think somethin’.  I’d have to know fer sure.  What I want to say is to put you on your guard against the baddest man on the river.”

“I am aware of that,” answered Alfred.  “I knew his record at Ft.  Pitt.  What would you have me do?”

“Keep close till he’s gone.”

“That would be cowardly.”

“No, it wouldn’t.  He’d shoot you from behind some tree or cabin.”

“Well, I’m much obliged to you for your kind advice, but for all that I won’t stay in the house,” said Alfred, beginning to wonder at the hunter’s earnest manner.

“You’re in love with Betty, ain’t you?”

The question came with Wetzel’s usual bluntness and it staggered Alfred.  He could not be angry, and he did not know what to say.  The hunter went on: 

“You needn’t say so, because I know it.  And I know she loves you and that’s why I want you to look out fer Miller.”

“My God! man, you’re crazy,” said Alfred, laughing scornfully.  “She cares nothing for me.”

“That’s your great failin’, young feller.  You fly off’en the handle too easy.  And so does Betty.  You both care fer each other and are unhappy about it.  Now, you don’t know Betty, and she keeps misunderstandin’ you.”

“For Heaven’s sake!  Wetzel, if you know anything tell me.  Love her?  Why, the words are weak!  I love her so well that an hour ago I would have welcomed death at Miller’s hands only to fall and die at her feet defending her.  Your words set me on fire.  What right have you to say that?  How do you know?”

The hunter leaned forward and put his hand on Alfred’s shoulder.  On his pale face was that sublime light which comes to great souls when they give up a life long secret, or when they sacrifice what is best beloved.  His broad chest heaved:  his deep voice trembled.

“Listen.  I’m not a man fer words, and it’s hard to tell.  Betty loves you.  I’ve carried her in my arms when she was a baby.  I’ve made her toys and played with her when she was a little girl.  I know all her moods.  I can read her like I do the moss, and the leaves, and the bark of the forest.  I’ve loved her all my life.  That’s why I know she loves you.  I can feel it.  Her happiness is the only dear thing left on earth fer me.  And that’s why I’m your friend.”

In the silence that followed his words the door opened and closed and he was gone.