“You spoke of traitors, Mr. Reed,” said the colonel.  “Did you know well all the men who came to help in the preparations for us?”

“All but two,” replied the mountaineer.  “One was named Leonard and the other Bosley.  They come from the other side uv the mounting with some uv the boys an’ we thought they wuz all right, but I reckon they must be the traitors, an’ I reckon too they must hev helped some uv the gorillers into the camp.  I ain’t seed a sign uv either sence them hosses wuz headed back.  I guess we wuz took in, an’ I’m pow’ful sorry, colonel.”

“You’re not to blame, Mr. Reed.  It’s not always possible to guard against treachery, but since we’ve defeated their attempt to stampede our horses we’ll defeat all other efforts of theirs.”

“Colonel, would you mind lendin’ me them glasses uv yourn fur a look?  The night’s so bright I guess I kin use ’em nigh ez well ez in the day.”

“Certainly you can have them, Mr. Reed.  Here they are.”

The mountaineer took a long look through them, and when he handed them back he uttered a clucking sound, significant of satisfaction.

“I ‘lowed it was him, when I saw him crawlin’ behind that bush,” he said, “an’ now I know.”

“Who is who?” said Dick.

“It’s that feller Bosley what came with the rest uv the boys.  I know that gray comfort what’s tied ‘roun’ his neck, an’ the ’coonskin cap what’s on his head.  He jest crawled behind that little twisted pine up thar, an’ took a pot shot at some uv us down here.”

“I wish I could reach him,” said Shepard.

“Ef you could I wouldn’t let you,” said the mountaineer grimly.

“Why?”

“‘Cause he’s my meat.  He come here with my people, an’ played a trick on us, a trick that might hev wiped out all uv Colonel Winchester’s men.  No man kin do that with me an git away.  He’s piled up a pow’ful big score an’ I’m goin’ to settle it myself.”

“How?”

“See this rifle uv mine?  I reckon it ain’t got all the fancy tricks that some uv the new repeatin’ breech-loadin’ rifles hev.  It’s jest a cap an’ ball rifle, but it’s got a long, straight barrel an’ a delicate trigger, an’ it sends a bullet wherever you p’int it.  It’s killed squirrels, an’ rabbits, an’ wil’ turkeys an’ catamounts, an’ b’ars, an’ now I reckon it’s goin’ to hunt higher game.”

The man was talking very quietly, but when Dick caught the light in his eye he knew that he meant every word.  It was a cold, implacable look, and the face of the mountaineer was like that of an avenging fate.

“I loaded it with uncommon care,” he continued, looking affectionately at his rifle, and then looking up again, “an’ now that the colonel’s glasses hev showed the way I kin see that feller peepin’ from roun’ his bush, tryin’ to git another shot, mebbe at me an’ mebbe at you.  It’s a long carry, but I’m shore to hit.  I had a chance at him then, but I ’low to wait a little!”