“I’ll take the dog,” answered Wetzel.  “He’ll save time for me.  I’ll stick to Miller’s trail and find Girty’s forces.  I’ve believed all along that Miller was helpin’ Girty, and I’m thinkin’ that where Miller goes there I’ll find Girty and his redskins.  If it’s night when I get back I’ll give the call of the hoot-owl three times, quick, so Jack and the Major will know I want to get back across the river.”

“All right, Lewis, we’ll be expecting you any time,” said Col.  Zane.

“Betty, I’m goin’ now and I want to tell you somethin’,” said Wetzel, as Betty appeared.  “Come as far as the end of the path with me.”

“I’m sorry you must go.  But Tige seems delighted,” said Betty, walking beside Wetzel, while the dog ran on before.

“Betty, I wanted to tell you to stay close like to the house, fer this feller Miller has been layin’ traps fer you, and the Injuns is on the war-path.  Don’t ride your pony, and stay home now.”

“Indeed, I shall never again do anything as foolish as I did yesterday.  I have learned my lesson.  And Oh!  Lew, I am so grateful to you for saving me.  When will you return to the Fort?”

“Mebbe never, Betty.”

“Oh, no.  Don’t say that.  I know all this Indian talk will blow over, as it always does, and you will come back and everything will be all right again.”

“I hope it’ll be as you say, Betty, but there’s no tellin’, there’s no tellin’.”

“You are going to see if the Indians are making preparations to besiege the Fort?”

“Yes, I am goin’ fer that.  And if I happen to find Miller on my way I’ll give him Betty’s regards.”

Betty shivered at his covert meaning.  Long ago in a moment of playfulness, Betty had scratched her name on the hunter’s rifle.  Ever after that Wetzel called his fatal weapon by her name.

“If you were going simply to avenge I would not let you go.  That wretch will get his just due some day, never fear for that.”

“Betty, ’taint likely he’ll get away from me, and if he does there’s Jonathan.  This mornin’ when we trailed Miller down to the river bank Jonathan points across the river and says:  ‘You or me,’ and I says:  ‘Me,’ so it’s all settled.”

“Will Mr. Clarke live?” said Betty, in an altered tone, asking the question which was uppermost in her mind.

“I think so, I hope so.  He’s a husky young chap and the cut wasn’t bad.  He lost so much blood.  That’s why he’s so weak.  If he gets well he’ll have somethin’ to tell you.”

“Lew, what do you mean?” demanded Betty, quickly.

“Me and him had a long talk last night and—­”

“You did not go to him and talk of me, did you?” said Betty, reproachfully.

They had now reached the end of the path.  Wetzel stopped and dropped the butt of his rifle on the ground.  Tige looked on and wagged his tail.  Presently the hunter spoke.

“Yes, we talked about you.”