“The boat, of course, you have lost,” he said, “as it belongs to Spain, but your arms and other equipment are all in my possession—­they were given to me to keep for you.  But our fleet of canoes loaded with arms and supplies will start north in three days.  Will you go on it?  Not to work, not to paddle, unless you wish, but to guide and to fight.  It is no favor that I am conferring upon you, but one that you can confer upon me if you will.  We need such as you and with you I shall feel that the fleet is safer.”

It was a most welcome offer.  They could serve the cause and themselves at the same time.  All things seemed to fall out as they wished.

“Sir, we thank you,” said Henry speaking for them all.  “You do not have to make such an offer twice.”

“Good!  Good!” said Oliver Pollock.  “Then the main feature of the bargain is closed and now I must have you to know the captain of the fleet.  Oh, I think that you will agree with him famously.  He will be in charge of the navigation and the fleet, though not of you.  You are to remain in your role of free rangers.”

He clapped his hand upon a little bell on the table and one of the stalwart, sunbrowned clerks entered.

“Bring in Captain Colfax.  I want him to make some new friends,” said Oliver Pollock, who was in the greatest of good humors.

Captain Adam Colfax of New Hampshire, who found the climate of New Orleans very warm, came in in a minute or two, and his was a figure to attract the attention of anybody.  Middle aged, nearly as tall as Jim Hart, red haired, with a sharp little tuft of red whisker on his chin, and with features that seemed to be carved out of some kind of metal, he was a combination of the seaman and landsman, as tough and wiry as they ever grow to be.  He regarded Oliver Pollock out of twinkling little blue eyes that could be merry or severe, as they pleased.

“Captain Colfax,” said Oliver Pollock, “These are the five from Kentucky of whom you heard.  They are to go with you on your great journey as far as Kentucky, but they are to do as they please.  They are scouts, warriors, and free rangers.  You will find them of great service.”

He introduced them one by one, and Adam Colfax gave them a hearty grip with a hand which seemed to be made of woven steel wire.

“Good woodsmen and good riflemen I take it,” he said, “and we may need both.  I hear that the Creeks, Cherokees, and others, are feeling full of fight.  Now, I ain’t looking for a fight, but if it happens to get in my way I’m not running from it.”

“You old war horse,” said Oliver Pollock, laughing, “it’s your business to get these supplies through, not to be shooting at Indians.  I wish I could go with you.  It’s a wonderful journey, but I have to stay here in New Orleans.  This is the gate and we must see that it is not closed.  How many canoes and boats have we now, Adam?”

“About sixty, and they are manned by at least three hundred men.  As I see it, we can take care of ourselves.”