“Henry,” he burst out at last, “this whole scheme o’ yours has been worked in the most beautiful way, an’ that last trick with Braxton Wyatt wuz the finest I ever saw.”

“There were three of us,” said Henry briefly and modestly.

“It’s a great thing to use your brain,” said the shiftless one sagely.  “I’m thinkin’ o’ doin’ it hereafter myself.”

Tom Ross laughed deeply and said: 

“I’d make a beginning before it wuz too late, ef I wuz you, Sol.”

“How long do you think it will take the Shawnees an’ the Miamis to straighten out that tangle about the great war trail?” asked the shiftless one of Henry.

“Not before snow flies,” replied the youth; “and then there will be so much mutual anger and disgust that they will not be able to get together for months.  But we must stop up here, Sol, and watch, and egg on the misunderstanding.  Don’t you think so, Tom?”

“Of course!” replied Ross briefly, but with emphasis.  “We’ve got to hang on the Injun flanks.”

Late in the afternoon they reached familiar ground, or at least it was so to the sharp eyes of these three, although they had seen it but once.  Here they had left Paul and Jim Hart, and they knew that they must be somewhere near.  Henry gave forth the whip-poor-will cry—­the long, wailing note, inexpressibly plaintive and echoing far through the autumn woods.  It was repeated once and twice, and presently came the answering note.

The three walked with confidence toward the point from which the answer had come, and soon they saw Paul and Jim Hart advancing joyously to meet them.

Paul listened with amazement to the story of their wonderful adventure, told in a few brief phrases.  Not many words were needed for him.  His vivid imagination at once pictured it all—­the deadly play of words in the Council House, the ambushing of Braxton Wyatt, and the triumphant result.

“That was diplomacy, statesmanship, Henry,” he said.

“We’re going to stay up here a while longer, Paul,” said Henry.  “We think our presence is needed in these parts.”

“I’m willing,” said Paul, wishing to have assurances, “but what about the powder for Marlowe, and what will our people at Wareville think has become of us?”

“As long as we can keep back these tribes, Marlowe will not need the powder, and some of the buffalo hunters have taken word to Wareville that we have come into the North.”

“I purpose,” said Shif’less Sol, “that so long ez we’re goin’ to stay in these parts that we go back to the haunted islan’ in the lake.  It’s in the heart o’ the Injun country, but it’s the safest spot within five hundred miles o’ us.”

“I think with Sol,” said Henry.  “We can prepare there for winter quarters.  In fact, we’ve got a hut already.”

“An’ I won’t have nothin’ to do,” said the shiftless one, “but lay aroun’ an’ hev Jim Hart cook fur me.”