He spoke in English that the five might understand, and Alvarez replied in the same language.

"Your Excellency," he said, and his tone seemed frank, open, and convincing—the five were amazed that he could have such a truthful look and manner of injured innocence—"you know that I have been a most faithful guardian of the interests of our master, the King. I have done long and hard service in the far north, in a wilderness infested by hostile savages."

"No one doubts your courage and endurance, Don Francisco," said Bernardo Galvez.

"My devotion to Spain is the great passion of my life," continued Alvarez in a gratified tone.

"You know how jealously I have sought to guard against incursions from Kaintock. The settlements of the Americans there are but two or three year old, yet these people press already upon the Mississippi and threaten His Majesty's territory of Louisiana."

"I think that we wander a little from the subject," said Galvez, "It would be better to state the core of your complaint."

Alvarez made a deprecating gesture.

"I deemed the preamble necessary to a full understanding of what has followed," he said. "When I tell of Kaintock I tell what these men are. Suffice it now to say that, of their own accord and by their own hands, they have made war upon Spain. They have stolen away a boat of mine, loaded with arms and stores, they have fired upon His Majesty's subjects, and one of them has slain a Natchez trailer, a faithful, valuable man in my service."

When Alvarez spoke of The Cat, he pointed at Shif'less Sol—he was acting on a hint of Wyatt's. The look of Alvarez followed the accusing finger, but the shiftless one rose undaunted.

"That part of what he tells is true," said Shif'less Sol. "I slew that Injun—an' a meaner face I never saw in fa'r fight. He slipped upon me in the dark to murder me, an' thar wuzn't nothin' else left fur me to do."

Freed of his speech and his wrath, the shiftless one sat down again. Alvarez and the renegade gave him looks of sneering incredulity, but the look of Bernardo Galvez was one of interest and surprise.

"What of the other charges?" he asked, turning to Paul, the spokesman.

The gift of imagination often implies the orator's tongue and Paul had an inspired moment. He stood up, his cheeks flushing and his eyes alight, as they always were when he was deeply moved.

"It is true," he said, "that we took a boat belonging to Captain Alvarez, but it was because he forced us to do it. It is he who first made war upon Kentucky, not we upon Spain. I went into his camp upon a peaceful mission. He seized and held me a prisoner. I was rescued by my comrades, although they inflicted no harm upon any of the men of Captain Alvarez. He has sought in every way to destroy us, and because he was the beginner of violence and because he is planning a great treason and war upon Kentucky, we took his boat and have come to New Orleans for the sole purpose of appearing before you."

Alvarez burst into a sneering laugh and Braxton Wyatt, as a matter of course, imitated him, but Bernardo Galvez asked in a grave tone:

"What do you mean by a great treason? No, Don Francisco, wait! Let him speak! It is their right."

"I mean," said Paul boldly, "that he expects to become Governor General of Louisiana in your place. It is not the policy of Spain to attack us. Yet Red Eagle and Yellow Panther, the head chiefs of the powerful Shawnee and Miami nations were in his camp, and he has agreed to help them with Spanish soldiers and Spanish cannon in a raid upon Kentucky."

"This is an extraordinary statement," said Bernardo Galvez. "Your proof?"

"Yes, your proof!" sneered Alvarez, and Braxton Wyatt sneered, too.

"This man," said Paul, pointing to the renegade, "is from Kentucky. We were boys together but he deserted the white people, his own people, to go with the red. He has continually urged the Indian attack upon us and he has brought to Captain Alvarez complete maps of every settlement in Kentucky, Wareville, Marlowe, Lexington, Harrodsburg, and all the others. Why is he here! Why has he come to New Orleans, if not to bind the red chiefs and Captain Alvarez together in such an enterprise?"

Alvarez again burst into a laugh, ironical and taunting. Paul flushed deeply.

"I know," he exclaimed, "that we cannot bring you absolute proofs, but it is true, nevertheless. The Indian chiefs, Yellow Panther and Red Eagle, have his agreement made without any authority from you, and there are the maps."

"A map does not necessarily mean war," said Alvarez, "even if they should exist, and they do not exist. I took these people, arms in hand, upon His Majesty's soil, and it was my intention to bring them to New Orleans for examination and punishment by you."

"Doubtless it is so," said Bernardo Galvez, "but you were in no hurry to perform the mission. I was forced to send a message to you at Beaulieu to come to New Orleans with your prisoners, but it seems they have escaped and come of their own accord."

"And I may state, your Excellency," said Henry Ware rising, "that while my comrade, Paul Cotter, was a prisoner at Beaulieu, he was forced into a ring and a professional swordsman was set upon him. That, Captain Alvarez cannot deny. It was witnessed by too many people."

Bernardo Galvez gave Alvarez a surprised and stern look. The captain winced, but it was only for a moment.

"Is this true, Don Francisco?" asked the Governor General gravely. "Did you do this thing?"

Alvarez made a gesture as if It were true, but yet a trifle.

"I confess, Your Excellency," he said. "I had forgotten the circumstance, but, since I am reminded of it, I will not deny. The thing seems much worse in the telling than it was in the happening. The young man had shown great skill with the sword—he had disarmed me in a little encounter; I admit that, too—and we wished to test his agility and courage against a master, who was instructed not to hurt him seriously under any circumstances."

He spoke rapidly and lightly, almost convincingly. But Henry Ware interrupted.

"His object," he said, "was to have Paul Cotter killed."

Bernardo Galvez looked from one to the other and back again. It was the word of a stranger and a foreigner against that of a Spanish captain in his service, a man of noble lineage, and with powerful friends at the Court of Madrid. But the seeds of doubt had been sown nevertheless. The youth, Paul, and his comrade Henry, also, had spoken with singular earnestness. Moreover, Francisco Alvarez was an ambitious man, and Bernardo Galvez also believed him to be unscrupulous. If he aimed at the place of Governor General and the commitment of Spain to an alliance with England, it was a daring thing to do.

Bernardo Galvez was sorely troubled and he looked from Alvarez to the five and then back again. Alvarez sat smiling. His look was that of one who was right, who knew that he was right, and who knew that others knew it. Oliver Pollock sitting by the big window, close to the five, was also watching shrewdly in order that he might draw from all this coil some capital for the patriot cause.

"In any event," said Bernardo Galvez at last, speaking slowly, as if he carefully considered each word, "you were wrong, Don Francisco, to expose this youth to such an encounter. If, as you say, it was merely a little sport, then the sport was ill-chosen and ill-timed. Whether that or another was your purpose, it reflects upon your judgment and sense of humanity."

He paused, and Alvarez flushed darkly, but he was still master of his supple self.

"Your words are none too severe, Your Excellency," he said. "I did indeed do a foolish thing. It was a thoughtless impulse."

"But," resumed Galvez, as if Alvarez had not spoken, "you are an officer high in the service of His Majesty, and these who accuse you are strangers belonging to another race. They do not bring the proof of their charges, and the fact that they have violently seized and put to their own use the property of Spain cannot be denied, as the boat is now anchored at the levee."

Francisco Alvarez and Braxton Wyatt lifted their chins in triumph and the five were downcast. But the face of Oliver Pollock, the shrewd merchant and far-seeing judge of affairs and men, showed nothing.

"Therefore," continued the Governor General, "the boat must be returned at once to Don Francisco, and for the present those who seized it must be the prisoners of Spain."

Paul was about to spring up in protest, but Henry's hand on his arm held him down. Oliver Pollock, too, gave him a warning glance. Yet the triumphant looks of the Spanish captain and the renegade were hard to bear.

"On the other hand," continued the Governor General, still weighing his words, "the actions of Don Francisco have not been beyond rebuke. He seems to have regarded those from Kaintock as the prisoners of himself and not of Spain. He made no report of these matters to me, his superior officer, and he has lingered at his place of Beaulieu as if he were subject to no orders save those of his own will."

Alvarez again flushed and raised his hand in protest, but Bernardo Galvez went on, disregarding him:

"Because these offenses give some color to the charges against him, it is my order that he be relieved for the present of his command, and that he do not depart, under any circumstance, from the City of New Orleans until he receive further instructions."

Alvarez, sprang up in anger, but a commanding gesture from the Governor General waved him down in silence.

"I do not wish to hear any protests, Don Francisco," he said, "but I do intend to look further into these matters."

"If we have not won, neither has the Spaniard," whispered Henry in Paul's ear.

Oliver Pollock glanced out of the big window and the turning of his head hid the twinkle in his eye. Yes, these were very delicate matters, and two great nations and another that hoped to be great, too, were involved, but one might make progress nevertheless.

Bernardo Galvez spoke to his secretary, who left the room, but returned in a few minutes with no less a personage than Lieutenant Diego Bernal, mincing, scrupulously dressed, but very alert of eye.

"You will take six soldiers," said the Governor General to him, "and escort these five to the fortress. Treat them well, but hold them until further orders."

Oliver Pollock gave a nod to Henry. It said plainly, "go without protest." Henry and his comrades rose and followed Lieutenant Bernal from the Governor General's house. Thence they went to one of the forts in the wall that surrounded the town.



CHAPTER XVI

IN PRISON

Their fortress prison was built of brick, but it was not a particularly somber place. They were all put in one large room which had two windows barred with iron; but plenty of air came in at the windows, and the place, though bare, was clean.

"Well," said Lieutenant Bernal, when they were inside, "tell me all that occurred before Bernardo Galvez."

Paul was again the spokesman telling everything that was said as literally as he could.

"I have an impression," said Lieutenant Bernal, "although my impressions are usually wrong and my memory is always weak, that you have scored, at least partially. You have sowed the fertile crop of suspicion in the mind of Bernardo Galvez. He has shown that by making Francisco Alvarez virtually a prisoner, also, and you have a powerful advocate in the Senor Pollock, the great merchant, and I may add the great diplomat, also."

"How long do you think we will be kept in here?" asked Shif'less Sol, looking around at the room, which, though wide, was by no means so wide as the forests of Kentucky.

"I do not know," replied the lieutenant, smiling—he understood the look of the shiftless one, "but you shall not be ill-treated, and do not feel that any disgrace lies upon you. This is a military prison. Good men have been confined here; I myself, for instance, because of some little breach of military discipline magnified by my officers into a fault. Oh, you shall not suffer!"

He bustled about cheerily. He had food and drink brought to them, and then he departed, volunteering to see that their private property on "The Galleon" was saved and brought to them.

No one spoke for a little while after his going, and then the silence was broken by a long, dismal sigh. It was drawn up from the depths of Long Jim's chest.

"Are you sick, Jim?" asked Henry.

"Yes, Henry," replied Jim in a melancholy tone, "I'm sick; sick uv all this jawin', sick uv seein' things pulled here, an' then pulled yonder, sick uv hearin' people lyin', knowin' that they're lyin', and knowin' that other people know that they're lyin'."

"Why, Jim," said Paul, who had a twinkle in his eye, "that's diplomacy, and the man who practises it is called a diplomatist or diplomat. It's considered a great accomplishment."

"It ain't so considered by me, an' I'm bein' heard from," said Long Jim with great emphasis. "Them dy-plo-may-tists or dy-plo-maws may reckon theirselves pow'ful big boys, but I've got another an' better name fur 'em, and it's spelled with jest four letters, uv which the furst is l an' the last is r, an' them that comes in between are i an' a, with the i first. Why, Paul, it makes me plum' sick, all these goin's on. In a big town like this, full uv Spaniards an' Frenchmen an' Injuns an' niggers an' mixed breeds, an' the Lord knows what, you can never tell nuth'in' 'bout nobody, 'cept that he says what he don't believe, an' that he ain't what he is.

"I guess I'm in love more with the big woods than ever. Thar things is what they is. A buffaler don't pretend to be a b'ar. He'd be ashamed to be caught tryin' to play sech a trick, an' a b'ar has the same respect fur hisself; he'd never dream uv sayin' in his b'ar language, 'Look at me, admire me, see what a fine big buffaler I am!' An' I've a lot uv respeck fur the Injun, too. He's an Injun an' he don't say he ain't. He don't come sneakin' along claimin' that he's an old friend uv the family, he jest up an' lets drive his tomahawk at your head, ef he gits the chance, an' makes no bones 'bout it. I'd a heap ruther be killed by a good honest Injun who wuz pantin' fur my blood an' didn't pretend that he wuzn't pantin', than be done to death down here, in some cur'us, unbeknown, hole-in-the-dark way, by a furrin' man who couldn't speak a real word of the decent English language, but who wuz tryin' to let on all the time that he hated to do it."

Long Jim stopped, breathing hard with his long speech and anger. Shif'less Sol rose, walked across the room, and solemnly held out his hand to his comrade.

"Jim," he said, "you don't often talk sense, but you're talkin' a heap o' it now. Shake."

Long Jim shook and added with a grin:

"When me an' you agree, Sol, 'bout anythin', it's shorely right."

Then they fell silent for a while, each thinking in his own way of what had occurred. Henry Ware walked to one of the windows and looked out for a long while. He relished little the idea of being a prisoner for the second time, even if the second imprisonment were a sort of courtesy affair. He saw from the windows the roofs of houses amid green foliage and he knew that only a few hundred yards beyond lay the great forest, which, now in the freshest and tenderest tints of spring, rolled away unbroken, save for the few scratches that the French or Spanish had made, for thousands of miles, and for all he knew to the Arctic Circle itself.

The words of Long Jim stirred the youth deeply. He did not like intrigue and double-dealing and the ways of foreign men. Like Long Jim he longed for the great honest forest, and he, too, had his respect for the Indian who would tomahawk him without claiming to be a friend. He was glad, very glad, that he had come upon so great an errand, but he would like to cleave through the whole web of intrigue with one sturdy blow and then be off into the forest which was calling to him with such a dearly loved voice.

Paul saw Henry's face and he understood its expression. He knew that it was harder for his comrade than for himself to endure the confinement within four walls, but he said nothing. Words would be wasted.

Later in the day their door was opened, and Mr. Pollock came in bringing with him a cheery breeze.

"I've come to tell you what news there may be," he said, "and also to ask questions. Now, sit down and make yourselves comfortable. That's right. The cunning and ambitious Don Francisco Alvarez is in a rage. He is also somewhat frightened. He knows that Bernardo Galvez will be busy the next few days trying to secure the proof of the charges that you make against him. In my opinion, Galvez believes that they are true, but, as you will agree, he cannot act without proof."

"But that is exactly what we lack at this time," said Henry, "and how can we get it while we are locked up here?"

"Just so! Just so! That is a point to which I am coming. Now, about this renegade, this Braxton Wyatt. You say he is the man who drew the maps and who has been the intermediary in this whole nefarious scheme. Maps could be drawn, of course, for a purpose not wicked, but if they could be produced, and above all if Alvarez had made any notes upon them in his own handwriting, they would go far to help. If not proof, they would at least be a strong indication. Now, where do you think these maps are kept?"

"On the person of Braxton Wyatt," replied Henry promptly.

The merchant smiled with pleasure.

"Of course! Of course!" he said. "They belong to Wyatt and naturally he would keep them. Naturally, also, Alvarez would want him to keep them. He would take care that such things were not found on his own person. We must get possession of those maps. But we must go further. This renegade has lived among both the Shawnees and Miamis and is high in their confidence, is it not so?"

"Yes, both the great head-chiefs, Yellow Panther and Red Eagle, trust him."

"And to carry out this nefarious alliance some promise must have passed between Alvarez and the two head chiefs. That promise had to take a concrete form to be binding."

"War belts," suggested Henry.

"But a white man does not send war belts. He has another kind of token, and he makes that token with paper, ink, and a goose quill. Yes, Alvarez is cunning, I know, but the most cunning of all men when he enters a great conspiracy must leave a loose end hanging about somewhere. Or, to change my simile, there is no armor of deception so complete that there is not a crack in it. We must find that loose end, we must find that crack, and when we do, we can see victory just ahead of us."

"Do you mean," said Henry, "that Alvarez has probably sent a letter to the Northern chiefs, promising that as Governor General of Louisiana he will help them with soldiers and cannon against us in Kentucky?"

"I think it likely, quite likely," returned Oliver Pollock, nodding his head to give emphasis to his words. "He had to give them something that would bind. A conspirator must take a risk and in this case it seemed small. The villages of those chiefs are beyond the Ohio, fifteen hundred miles at least from here. The chance that such a letter would reappear in New Orleans was most remote, and Alvarez, might have expected to provide against that, too, by being Governor General within a few months. I feel confident that there is such a letter and we must find it."

"It's a pretty problem," said Paul.

"I admit it," said Oliver Pollock, "but a new continent teaches one to achieve the impossible. That is what are we to do; how, I do not yet know, but we must do it."

"It's important," said Henry, "that it be done soon."

"It certainly is," said Mr. Pollock with great emphasis, "because I wish to start North soon with a great fleet of canoes and other boats loaded with rifles, powder, lead, blankets, medicines, and other absolutely necessary things for our suffering brethren in the east. They are hard pressed there, and it takes a long time to pull up the Mississippi and the Ohio and then carry these things across four or five hundred miles of country to our army."

"It's shorely a wonderful thing," said Shif'less Sol, "that you kin take boats up a big river hundreds an' hundreds o' miles into the heart o' a continent, then bend off into another river runnin' into it that takes you nearly over to the Atlantic. An' mebbe ef you took one o' the rivers that runs in it on the other side you might follow it up 'till you got purty near to the western ocean. It says to me plain ez print that we must hev this here Mississippi all the way to its mouth. We can't stay bottled up."

"Sh-sh," said Mr. Pollock, warningly. "Leave that to the future. It will adjust itself, and I think it will adjust itself in the way that we wish, but we cannot talk of it now, while Bernardo Galvez is our good friend and Spain inclines to our side. Of course Louisiana may be passed back to France, but France is a better and more powerful friend than Spain can be."

"Do you think you can get hold of Braxton Wyatt?" asked Henry of Mr. Pollock.

"I shall try," replied the merchant. "Our association has agents here, and in such times as these and in such a great emergency much may be excused. If we can get hands upon him at a convenient moment and place we'll see whether he has those maps about him."

"He'll surely have them," said Henry. "But he'll stick close to Alvarez."

"Yes, there lies the trouble," said Mr. Pollock, "but we'll do our best."

He took his departure, and they were left again to loneliness. Several days passed thus and they chafed terribly. Food and drink they had in plenty, and even some English books were sent to them. But the narrow space and the four enclosing walls were always there. Outside the spring was deepening. All the great forest throbbed with the life of bird and beast, but they, the highest of creation, could not walk ten paces in any direction.

"Jim," said Shif'less Sol to Long Jim, "there's a spring 'bout twenty miles north o' Wareville that you an' me hev sat by many a time. Thar are hundreds a' springs through that country, yes, thousands o' 'em, but this one is the finest o' 'em all. It comes right out o' the side o' a rock hill, a stream so pure that you kin see right through it same ez ef it wuzn't thar, then it falls into a most bee-yu-ti-ful rock pool scooped out by Natur, an' ez the pool overflows, it runs away through the grass an' the woods in a stream 'bout two feet wide an' four inches deep. I think that's 'bout the nicest, coldest, an' most life-givin' water in all Kentucky. You an' me, Jim, hev gone thar many a time, hot an' tired from the hunt, an' hev felt ez ef we had landed right on the steps o' Heaven itself. An' the game, Jim! The game, big an' little, knowed 'bout that spring, too. Remember that tre-men-je-ous big elk you an' me killed 'bout two hundred yards north o' the spring. He stood most ez high ez a horse. An' remember, Jim, when we climbed up on top o' the hill out o' which the spring runs, we could see a long distance every way, north, south, east an' west, over the most bee-yu-ti-ful country, an' we could go whar we pleased. We could follow the buffaler clean to the western ocean ef we felt like it."

Long Jim had been sitting on the floor. Now he rose and advanced in a threatening manner upon Shif'less Sol.

"See here, Sol Hyde!" he exclaimed, "me an' you hev had words many a time, but they hev always ended in smoke! They hev never gone ez fur ez this! An' I want to tell you right here, Sol Hyde, that I kin stand a lot uv things but I can't stand this! 'Ef you say another word about that bee-yu-ti-ful spring, an' them bee-yu-ti-ful woods, an' that bee-yu-ti-ful game, thar'll be a heap uv trouble, an' it'll all be fur you!"

"Hit him anyway, Jim," said Tom Ross. "He's done filled me clean up with discontent, and he ought to be punished."

Shif'less Sol laughed.

"I won't do it again, Jim," he said. "It wuz 'cause I feel ez bad about it ez you do, an' I jest had to let off some meanness."

Lieutenant Diego Bernal reappeared at last. He bestowed shrewd looks upon the five and said:

"I have an impression, though my impressions are usually false and my memory always weak, that you are pining. You wish the liberty and the open air of Kaintock. Your legs are long and you would stretch them."

"You hev shore hit it, leftenant," said Tom Ross. "Sometimes I think uv startin' off walkin' ez straight an' hard ez I kin, goin' right through the wall thar, an' then through any house that might git in the way, an' never to stop goin' 'till I got to Kentucky, whar a man may breathe free an' easy."

Lieutenant Diego Bernal laughed and daintily stroked his little mustache.

"I understand you and you have my sympathy," he said. "We Catalans are at heart republicans, and I am interested in this new place of yours that you call Kaintock. But you will have to endure this fort a while longer. The good Senor Pollock does not make progress. He cannot produce the proof of what you charge. Yet Bernardo Galvez waits. He believes in you, and he holds Alvarez and Wyatt in the city. He is strengthened in his opinion, too, by gossip that has come down from Beaulieu, but that is not proof and he cannot act upon it. But be patient. I have an impression, although my impressions are usually false, that time is fighting for you."

He stayed with them an hour, precise and affected, but they believed him to be brave and true. A few days later Oliver Pollock himself came again.

"I have not been able to get hold of Wyatt," he said. "He stays too closely with Alvarez. I don't think that my agents are skillful enough. Hence I decided to procure a new one and fortunately I have succeeded."

"Who is that?" asked Henry.

"Yourself."

"Myself!" exclaimed Henry in astonishment.

"No one but you," replied the merchant. "I have been able, by the use of great influence, to secure from Bernardo Galvez your temporary release. It is to his interest to have this plot exposed if it really exists, and accordingly he has allowed me to borrow you. You can go forth with me if you give your word of honor that you will not leave New Orleans or its vicinity and will report again here."

"Why, of course I'll go! I'll"—exclaimed Henry joyfully, and then he stopped suddenly, looking around at his comrades. Then he added: "I don't feel right, Mr. Pollock, to go away and leave the boys in this place."

Up rose Tom Ross.

"Don't you fret about us, Henry," he said. "You're goin' on a good work an' you'll do it, too. We need to hev one uv our gang outside. Remember up at Boo-ly, when Alvarez had us, how much better we felt 'cause he didn't hev Sol. 'Twas a comfort to think that Sol wuz out thar in the woods."

It was a long speech for Tom Ross, but it expressed the sentiments of them all. Henry left with Mr. Pollock and they went to a handsome brick house in the city. This house was store, office, and residence combined, and several clerks were about. But these clerks did not have pale faces and bent backs. They were mostly strong-limbed, broad-shouldered men with tanned faces.

"They work out of doors," said Mr. Pollock briefly. "Some are to go with the fleet up the rivers, others have been as far as the West Indies accumulating supplies. It is necessary for them all to be able to write and shoot."

Henry liked their looks, but he did not have a chance to speak to any of them as Mr. Pollock quickly led the way Into a small inner office, where he motioned Henry to a chair and took one himself. Henry was now within narrower walls than those that confined him in the prison, but he felt a huge sense of relief. He was free. If he wanted to open the door and walk out he could do so. He expanded his great chest and took a mighty breath. Mr. Pollock heard the suspiration, looked up, and laughed. He understood perfectly.

"I'd feel that way, too, if I had been in your place," he said. "Now what we want to do is to devise some plan of trapping your friend and enemy. Mr. Wyatt. What do you think?"

"Once," replied Henry, "when, he was carrying war belts between the Shawnees and Miamis we simply seized him and took them away from him. We must do something of this kind. Where is he staying?"

"Alvarez, has a house near the river. He is there. I know that the two are plotting all the while, but I cannot get the proof."

"Do Wyatt and Alvarez know that I'm out?"

"No, neither of them."

"That's good. I think I can surprise Braxton Wyatt. If I can get my hands on him I'm sure that we'll find those maps. What kind of a house has Alvarez?"

"You can see it from that window. A pretty place, standing among the trees."

Henry looked, and the longer he looked the more pleased he felt. The trees were thick around the house of Alvarez and the fact gave him an idea.

"I think I know how to do it," he said.

Oliver Pollock leaned forward, his shrewd face eager, and for a few minutes the two talked low and earnestly.



CHAPTER XVII

THE FLAW IN THE ARMOR

Don Francisco Alvarez was in a fairly happy frame of mind. It is true that he could have been happier, but a revulsion from a great state of suspense had come to him. When he had been so boldly accused in the presence of the Governor General, cold fear had struck at his heart, despite his courage and cunning. He knew that the seeds of suspicion had been sowed deep in the heart of Bernardo Galvez and that the plant would grow fast in the warm, moist air of intrigue that overhung New Orleans.

But days had passed and nothing had happened. Moreover, the five whom he feared so much were hard and fast in the military prison within the walls, and no proof of their charges had been brought forth. Time, too, worked steadily for him. It not only weakened the accusation against him, but it also gave his powerful friends at the court of Madrid time to help him and his ambition. That little strain of royal blood in his veins was well worth having. He would certainly succeed to Bernardo Galvez, whether the wait he long or short.

He kept Braxton Wyatt with him all the time. He had learned to appreciate the value of the renegade's unscrupulous cunning, and he was necessary, too, in order to carry out the great alliance with the tribes which Alvarez meant should become an accomplished fact.

It was a pleasant house that Alvarez had within the walls, one story of brick covered with red tiles, surrounded by piazzas, and standing in grounds thick with magnolias, cypresses, and orange trees. In truth, the foliage was so dense that by daylight the house was almost entirely hidden from the city, and by night it was quite invisible unless lights chanced to twinkle through the leaves.

The Spaniard and Braxton Wyatt were sitting now upon the piazza drinking a cool decoction of West Indian origin, and Alvarez was commenting upon what he called his good fortune.

"All things favor us, Wyatt," he said. "No proof reaches the ears of Bernardo Galvez and the galleon, Dona Isabel, will certainly arrive next week from Spain. If I mistake not, she will bring news welcome to me and unwelcome to Bernardo Galvez."

"If you become Governor General what will you do with the Kentuckians in the fort?" asked Wyatt.

Alvarez laughed, and it was a very unpleasant laugh to hear.

"I do not know what I shall do with them," he said, "but I am sure of one fact. They will never see Kaintock again. The powers of a Governor General are very great."

Braxton Wyatt was satisfied with the answer. His wicked heart throbbed at the thought that the five would never more roam their beloved forests. He, too, looked forward to the arrival of the galleon, Dona Isabel, with welcome news. He saw how useful he was to Alvarez, and if the Spaniard rose, he must rise with him.

The two, after these few words, sat in silence, each occupied with his own thoughts, which, however, were largely the same. Alvarez rose presently and went into the house. If all things went as he wished, there were certain letters that he would send to powerful friends in Spain, and now was a good time to make rough drafts of them.

Braxton Wyatt remained on the piazza. It was wonderfully cool and pleasant there, after the heat of the day. The wind blew musically among the orange trees, and the air was spiced with pleasant odors. Braxton Wyatt's thoughts were pleasant, too. He liked this luxurious southern life. Though born to the forest, and a good woodsman, he had sybaritic tastes, which needed only opportunity to bud and bloom.

Now, like the Arab who had the glass for sale, he was building his great future. Alvarez would be Governor General of Louisiana, and he, Braxton Wyatt, would be his trusted and necessary lieutenant. The five whom he hated would be removed under the new rule from the military prison to dungeons, where they would gradually be lost to the sight of man, never to be heard of again. The Indians and the Spaniards with their cannon would destroy the settlements in Kentucky, and he would become, if not the first, at least the second man in His Most Catholic Majesty's huge province of Louisiana. And it was not absolutely necessary to be Spanish-born to become in time a Governor General himself.

Time passed. It was very quiet within the belt of magnolias and cypresses and orange trees and but little noise came from the town, the stray shout of a reveler, a snatch of a song, and then nothing more.

Braxton Wyatt, still filled with his dreams, arose and stepped down from the piazza. The happy future promoted in him a certain physical activity, and he wanted to walk among the trees. He stepped into their shadow, strolled a rod or so, and then stopped. His acute, forest-bred ear had brought to him a sound which was not that of the wind nor any echo of a gay reveler's song.

The renegade stopped. It was very dark among the trees. He could see neither the house behind, nor the city before him. He did not hear the sound again, but he was troubled. His pleasant thoughts were disturbed. It was like waking from a happy dream. He turned to go back to the house and then he saw a flitting shadow. The wicked heart of Braxton Wyatt stood still. If he had not known that Henry Ware was safely in the military prison he would have taken the terrible shadow for him. He knew too well the great height, the broad shoulders, and the fierce accusing countenance. Once he had laughed at the Shawnees and Miamis because they had believed in ghosts. But could it be true?

Braxton Wyatt turned back toward the house, where he might renew his interrupted and pleasant dream, but the next instant the terrible shadow turned itself into a reality more terrible.

A powerful form hurled itself upon him, and he was thrown to the ground. He looked up and met the eyes of Henry Ware, who knelt upon him. No, it was certainly not a shadow but the most unpleasant of all facts!

Braxton Wyatt was at first paralyzed by terror and the suddenness of the attack. When he recovered, one hand of Henry pressed heavily upon his mouth, while the other felt rapidly through his clothing. "Look for any unusual thickness in his waistcoat; that is probably the place," Oliver Pollock had said. Henry's hand in a few moments ran upon something folded between the cloth and lining of the waistcoat. He snatched out his knife, cut them apart and out fell several folds of fine, thin deerskin. He knew that the prize had been secured, and he meant to keep it.

Henry thrust the folds of deerskin in his pocket and sprang to his feet.

"Now, you scoundrel!" he exclaimed, "tell what tale you please and we will prove another!"

Then the terrible reality resolved itself back into a shadow, and was gone. Braxton Wyatt sprang to his feet, clapped his hand to his mangled waistcoat where the precious package had been, and uttered a strangled cry. Then he ran through the trees to the house of Alvarez.

* * * * *

A quarter of an hour later Oliver Pollock was sitting at his own window in the little office and his thoughts were not happy. He wished his fleet of supply canoes to start on the great river journey at once, but it could not depart while such storms were threatening. Alvarez was too serious a danger, and he must be removed. But the merchant realized that he had made little progress. Alvarez seemed to be secure in his plot.

There came a knock at his door, and in reply to his request to enter, a clerk said that the young man, Mr. Ware, had returned. Mr. Pollock rose to his feet as Henry came in. Henry carefully closed the door behind him, advanced, and put a small package in Mr. Pollock's hand.

"There they are!" he said, "the maps drawn up by Braxton Wyatt, and with notes on them in handwriting, which I take to be that of Francisco Alvarez."

The merchant stared at first in astonishment and delight. Then he ran to the lamp and spread out the sheets of fine, thin deerskin. He looked at them, one by one, and laughed with delight.

"Yes," he said, "the notes are in the handwriting of Francisco Alvarez! I know it—I have seen it often enough—and Bernardo Galvez will know it, too! Oh, it is a great find! a great find! It is not conclusive proof, but it will go far toward swaying belief! How did you get them?"

Henry had recovered from all signs of his struggle with the renegade, and was now sitting placidly in a chair.

"I took them," he said. "I found Braxton Wyatt in the grove around the house of Alvarez, and I seized him. I found these in the lining of his waistcoat."

"You did not kill him?"

"Oh, no. He is not hurt."

"It is well. I did not wish any unnecessary violence, but we had a right to seize these documents which mean so much to us and Bernardo Galvez. You will leave them with me."

"Of course," said Henry. "And now that this task is finished, I'll go back to prison with my comrades."

"It's unnecessary for you to join them there," said the merchant still laughing in his pleasure. "I'll have them out to join you, and that speedily, too. Go into the next room and sleep. You've earned the right to it."

The five, reduced to four, were sitting in their prison the next afternoon chafing more than ever. It seemed to every one of them that those walls, already so narrow, were still contracting. They did not even like to look out of the window. The contrast was too painful, and they did not wish to increase their sorrow.

"Jim," said Shif'less Sol in plaintive tones to Long Jim Hart, "won't you please come here, an' hold up my head?"

"Now, Sol Hyde," said Long Jim, "what do you want me to come thar an' hold up your head fur? Are you too lazy to hold it up fur yourself?"

"No, Jim, I ain't too lazy to hold it up fur myself, I'm jest too weak. Lack o' exercise an' fresh air, an' elbow room hev done fur poor Sol Hyde at last. I'm pinin' away. Tell Henry when he comes back, ef he ever does, that I fell into a decline. I done my best to b'ar up, but my best wuzn't good enough."

"Now you shut up, Sol Hyde," said Jim Hart, "or you'll hev me down real sick with your foolish talk, ez I jest can't stand it."

They stopped because at that moment there came unto them Lieutenant Diego Bernal, fresh, chipper, with a few additional flounces and ruffles added to his jaunty uniform, and a smile upon his dark, pleasant face.

"Ah, my gallant four, who were once my gallant five," he said as he stroked his little mustache, "I have news for you, important news. You are even to be summoned again to the presence of His Excellency, Bernardo Galvez, the Governor General of Louisiana, and that summons is immediate. I have an impression, though my impressions are usually false and my memory always weak, that the large youth, the strong youth, the splendid youth, surnamed the Ware, who was released for the time at the intercession of Senor Pollock, has been achieving something. This, I think, is the reason of the sudden call to the audience with His Excellency."

Paul was all life at once. He sprang up, his eyes sparkling and the flush of anticipation coming into his face.

"Henry has succeeded!" he cried. "He has done something big! I knew he would! He has defeated Alvarez and that wretch Wyatt!"

The Catalan regarded Paul with admiration. He liked this enthusiasm, this infinite trust in a comrade. The five and their faith in one another continued to make the strongest of appeals to him.

"I think it is even so," he said. "The young giant surnamed the Ware, must have done a great deed, because Don Francisco Alvarez, is summoned, at the same time, to the presence of His Excellency, the Governor General, Bernardo Galvez, and I hear that he is in no pleasant frame of mind because of it. Come!"

The four went forth joyfully. Shif'less Sol was the first to put foot on Mother Earth, and he stopped, raised his head, and opened his mouth to its widest extent.

"Jim," he said to Long Jim Hart, "I want to breathe it in, this outdoors an' fresh air an' freedom, everywhar I kin, at my mouth, nose, ears, an' eyes, too, ef they're any good at that sort o' business."

"An' at the pores, too, Sol," said Paul.

"What's pores?"

"Millions and millions of fine little holes all over you."

"Wa'll, I ain't ever seed any o' them holes, or felt 'em, but ef they're in me I hope they're all workin' right now, drawin' the good fresh air."

Lieutenant Diego Bernal led the way rapidly to the house of the Governor General, and four soldiers closed up by the side of them as an escort and guard. But the four had no thought of attempting escape. Their minds were wholly occupied with what might occur when they were a second time in the presence of the Governor General.

They were taken through the anteroom and then into the large hall of audience where the Governor General sat, as before, in the great chair with his secretary at the little table at his right. At one side of the room were Francisco Alvarez, and Braxton Wyatt, both frowning, and at the other side were Oliver Pollock and Henry Ware, neither frowning at all. Henry came forward and shook hands warmly with his comrades.

"What is it, Henry?" whispered Paul. "What has happened?"

"Wait," replied Henry in a similar whisper. "We must see what Bernardo Galvez is going to do."

The Governor General motioned the four, now the five once more, to seats, and they noticed that the audience was marked by unusual state. Two soldiers, as a guard, stood near one of the windows, and the secretary was ready with his ink and goose quills to write down whatever he might be ordered to write. Alvarez and Braxton Wyatt were visibly uneasy. Bernardo Galvez sat upright, his face stern, his look commanding. He was every inch of him a Governor General.

"Gentlemen," he said speaking in precise English, "a charge was made in this chamber some days since, a charge involving the integrity and loyalty of a high officer in the service of Spain, Don Francisco Alvarez. This charge was made by five men and youths from the new region called by themselves Kentucky and known here as Kaintock, but they brought little proof to support it."

Francisco Alvarez moved his chair, and a look of relief came over his face. The opening promised well. The expressions of Henry Ware and Oliver Pollock did not change, and Bernardo Galvez continued:

"I could not hold an officer of Spain, one high in the service, upon such charges, when they were without sufficient support, and hence, as these five men and boys had committed acts of violence upon Spanish soil and against Spanish subjects, I sent them to a military prison, pending further disclosures if there should be any, and I have held Don Francisco Alvarez in New Orleans in order that he might clear his good name of these charges and of certain talk that has been afloat concerning him."

Alvarez stirred again and his expression changed slightly. The continuation was not quite as good as the beginning. Did he not detect a slight undertone of irony or satire in the voice of Bernardo Galvez? But neither Henry Ware nor Oliver Pollock moved a particle. The four looked curiously from one to another of the actors in this tense scene.

"It was my object," resumed Bernardo Galvez, and now his tone had a curious hard quality like steel, "to find the truth. Only in that way could justice be done. Now I have to say that proof of these charges, not conclusive, but incriminating nevertheless, has been found, and is in my possession."

Alvarez leaped from his chair. He felt as if he had received a blow of a hammer on his temple, but he cried out:

"It is not true! there can be no such proof!"

"It is true," said Bernardo Galvez sternly and accusingly, "because I hold this evidence here in my hand. The war-maps which you are charged with having, drawn by the one Wyatt, the friend of the Indians, and annotated in your hand, are here."

He opened his palm and laid the strips of deerskin upon the table. Alvarez staggered back and looked savagely at Braxton Wyatt.

"It is true," stammered the renegade in a whisper. "I was set upon last night by Ware! He took me by surprise and robbed me of them! I could not help it, but I was afraid to tell you then."

"I knew that Henry would find a way! I knew it!" Paul was murmuring to himself.

"What of these maps, Don Francisco Alvarez?" said the Governor General.

The bold and flexible Spaniard quickly recovered himself.

"Maps do not mean anything," he said. "Any military officer provides himself with them whenever he can. He need not he at war with a country to secure them."

"No, not in the case of ordinary maps, but here we have plans for an attack upon the settlements in Kaintock. I find noted by the side of one station in your handwriting: 'Could be destroyed easily with two cannon.' It is obvious that you have exceeded your authority. How much further you have gone is to be seen."

"Your Excellency, I protest against"—began Alvarez, but at that moment the door was opened and Lieutenant Diego Bernal appeared upon the threshold.

"What is this interruption? How dare you?" exclaimed the Governor General.

But the little Catalan was never more thoroughly master of himself. His uniform was never more resplendent, and the lace at throat and sleeves never fuller. He bore himself, too, with the utmost dignity because he knew that he was about to make an announcement of the utmost importance. Moreover, he was a favorite with Bernardo Galvez.

"Your Excellency," he said, with dramatic effect, "a man has come craving immediate audience with you. He says that his news cannot wait, and, in order to secure entrance at once to your presence, he has given me the purport of it. He is here now."

A tall figure in a black robe, the face thin and austere, walked boldly into the room. Mighty was the power of Holy Church in the colonies of France and Spain and this priest who expected torture and death some day feared neither Bernardo Galvez nor anybody else.

"Father Montigny!" exclaimed every one of the five and, "Father Montigny!" repeated Francisco Alvarez and Braxton Wyatt. Bernardo Galvez rose from his chair and saluted the priest courteously. He knew him well.

"What is this business, so urgent in its nature, Father," said the Governor General.

"I came to Beaulieu when Captain Alvarez had set the bully upon this youth," said Father Montigny, pointing to Paul.

"I have already acknowledged my fault there," exclaimed Alvarez. "It was an impulse! Need I be accused of it again?"

Father Montigny turned his gaze upon Alvarez, and the Captain, bold as he was, feared it more than that of Bernardo Galvez.

"That is but a preamble," continued the priest, the Governor General not noticing the interruption, "but it caused me to take especial notice of what might be occurring in Louisiana at the furthest limits of settlement. I went thence among the Cherokees and Creeks and kindred tribes and I found them stirred by a great emotion. They were preparing for the war trail. Messengers had come from tribes in the far north, Shawnees, Miamis, Wyandots, and others, whom they have fought for generations in the region, lying between them, known to them as the Dark and Bloody Ground, and to us as Kaintock."

Francisco Alvarez suddenly paled, and looked away from the priest.

"What was the purport of these messages?" asked Bernardo Galvez.

"That there must be peace for the time being between the northern and southern tribes. The northern tribes would march south and the southern would march north. When they met they would be joined also by Spanish soldiers with cannon, and the three forces would destroy forever the new white settlements in Kaintock."

The pallor of Alvarez deepened, but Oliver Pollock still sat immovable, his expression not changing. Bernardo Galvez looked straight at Alvarez, and there was lightning in his gaze.

"How was this alliance formed?" asked the Governor General. "Some powerful connection, some strong intermediary, must have drawn these warring northern and southern tribes together. And above all why did they expect Spanish troops and Spanish cannon?"

"There was a letter," replied the priest in a grave, sad tone, "a letter written by a Spanish officer, high in position and distinction. It was sent to Red Eagle, head chief of the Shawnees, and Yellow Panther, head chief of the Miamis. The writer said that he would soon be Governor General of Louisiana and that Spain would then help the Indians to destroy Kaintock."

"It is a lie!" continued Alvarez. "There is no such letter."

"It is no lie," continued the priest calmly. "There is such a letter. The great chiefs, Red Eagle and Yellow Panther, as proof of the promise, sent it south to the Cherokees and Creeks, among whom I have been. I have seen it, I have read it, I have it, and to you, Bernardo Galvez, I now give it. It is signed by Don Francisco Alvarez."

Father Montigny drew a letter from his robe and handed It to the Governor General. Francisco Alvarez fell back in his chair as if he had been struck by a thunder-bolt. And it was little less. The letter that he had sent into the vast Northern wilderness, and which he considered as obscure as one leaf among millions, had come back to convict him. The one flaw in the armor of his wild ambition had been found. He cast a baleful look at the priest and was silent. It was not worth while now to deny anything.

Bernardo Galvez read the letter and read it again. Then he folded it and put it in his pocket.

"It is enough," he said, "Francisco Alvarez, you are guilty of attempting to usurp to yourself the powers that belong only to his Majesty, the King of Spain. I can conceive of a man of your knowledge and craft writing such a letter as this upon only one possibility, and that possibility has passed. The galleon, Dona Isabel, from Spain came this morning up the Mississippi and she brings letters from Madrid. Your friends at the court, powerful as they are, have failed. You are not to be the Governor General of Louisiana. I am confirmed in my appointment and you remain under my authority."

"What do you intend to do?" asked Alvarez.

The words came from a dry throat, and they had a harsh, rasping sound.

"The galleon, Dona Isabel, returns to Spain next week. You will remain a prisoner in one of the forts until then, when you are to go to Spain on the galleon to answer there for your acts here. The man, Wyatt, is not a Spanish subject, but he must leave New Orleans within an hour. The five who have been held in the fort are released from this moment. Lieutenant Bernal, take away the prisoner."

It was the cause of intense gratification to Lieutenant Diego Bernal that he had been permitted to see the last and most striking part of this drama. Francisco Alvarez had treated him with scorn more than once, and it was not his part or that of Bernardo Galvez to insult a fallen enemy. He merely put his hand lightly on the sleeve of Alvarez, and the prisoner, without a word, followed him.



CHAPTER XVIII

NORTHWARD WITH THE FLEET

When Alvarez was gone, the five rose and thanked the Governor General. They, too, did not wish to rejoice over a fallen foe, but it was the moment of their complete triumph. Success had come better than they had ever hoped and the great three-faced conspiracy was shattered. It was Spanish cannon that they had dreaded and now they could not thunder against the wooden walls in Kentucky. They crowded around the priest, too, and shook his hand and were grateful for his timely assistance. He had come at the most opportune of all moments.

It was Paul who acted as spokesman for them with Bernardo Galvez.

"Your Excellency, we came this vast distance confiding in your justice, and we have found our confidence well placed," he said.

Bernardo Galvez smiled. It was a moment of triumph for him, too. A bold conspiracy against him had been crushed, and the five had been the chief instruments in the crushing of it. Even without the aid of his good heart, his feelings toward them would have been very kindly.

"If New Orleans has proved inhospitable to you for a time," he said, "she is now ready to make atonement. Your good friend, Mr. Pollock, will care for you."

The five withdrew with the merchant, still elated, still feeling the full sense of victory. Mr. Pollock had been very quiet but when they reached the open air he burst forth.

"Lads," he said, "'tis a great task that you have done. You have saved Kentucky—and these things are far-reaching—you may have saved all the colonies beside. If the Mississippi had been closed to us we could not reach our friends in the east with the supplies that they need so badly. But I can't say more. You were surely inspired when you set out upon this errand, and there is a tremendous debt of gratitude coming to you."

He shook hands with them all, one by one. But Long Jim heaved a mighty sigh of relief.

"Is it all over, Paul?" he asked.

"I think so, Jim. We seem to have destroyed for good and all the great three-cornered conspiracy against us."

"Then," said Jim, "ef it's all done I want to talk sense. I'm in favor uv our startin' to Kentucky right away, that is, in about five minutes. Them big woods keep callin' to me, I heard 'em callin' last night in my dreams, an' I hear 'em callin' now when I'm awake. I've breathed indoor air long enough. It's layin' heavy on my lungs, an' I want to put in its place air that's swep' clean across from the Pacific Ocean an' that ain't hit not bin' foul on the way."

"Five minutes is too short notice, Jim," laughed Paul, "but we'll surely start soon, though it's a tremendously long tramp through the woods and even if we had 'The Galleon' we'd have to pull and sail against the current."

Oliver Pollock was watching them as they talked and his eyes gleamed, but he said nothing until they were within his house, where he took them and gave them refreshments. There he had a proposition to make.

"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."

"Adam," said Mr. Pollock laughing, "I believe you're really looking for a fight."

Adam Colfax showed two rows of fine, white teeth, but said nothing. After a little more hearty talk he went away to look after his fleet, and Mr. Pollock made arrangements for the five to stay at his house until their departure north. They were to occupy a single big room, and their rifles, other arms, and general equipment were already there waiting for them.

"I'll miss 'The Galleon,'" said Paul, "I'd like to be going back in her. I suppose it's sentiment, but I became attached to that boat."

"She wuz shorely comf'table," said Shif'less Sol. "I had a good time floatin' down her on the Missip'. Now I reckon Jim here will hev to row me or paddle me all the way back to Kaintuck."

"Ef you wait fur me to row or paddle you, you won't ever travel more'n six inches," said Long Jim.

"Jest like you, Jim; you ain't got no gratitood at all fur me gittin' you away from New Orlee-yuns."

Paul, who had been speaking to Henry in a low tone, now turned again to Mr. Pollock.

"There is one more thing that we want you to do for us, if you will, Mr. Pollock," he said. "We took the boat from Alvarez because he attacked us first, and we put it to what we think was a good use. But it really belonged to Spain and Bernardo Galvez. So if any wages are coming to us we wish that you would take enough in advance and pay the Governor General for the use of the boat and what stores we may have consumed."

"It shall be done," said Oliver Pollock, "and I like your spirit in wishing it to be done."

It was a promise that he kept faithfully.

When they reached their room they found their rifles and other arms in perfect order. Lieutenant Diego Bernal had taken good care of them. Long Jim picked up his rifle and handled it lovingly.

"It feels good jest to tech it," he said. "I didn't think I could ever like a Spaniard ez well ez I do that thar little leftenant. I'll miss him when we go ploughin' up the river."

They were preparing to leave the room and breathe all out of doors, as Sol put it, when they were stopped by the entrance of Father Montigny. They crowded around him, expressing anew the gratitude that they had shown to him at the house of the Governor General.

"It was really you, Father Montigny, who saved everything," said Paul.

The priest smiled and shook his head.

"No," he said, "It was not I, but your courage and tenacity. I had the rare good fortune to find the letter among the Chickasaws and obtain it. It was sent by the Shawnees and Miamis as a sort of token, a war belt as it were. It was only a remote chance that brought it back to New Orleans, and even then Alvarez confidently expected to be Governor General."

"What will become of Alvarez?" asked Paul.

"It is the plan to send him a prisoner to Spain on the galleon, Dona Isabel, as you know, but I fear that we have not heard the last of him. He is a man of fierce temper, and now he is wild with rage and mortification. Moreover, he has many followers here in New Orleans. All the desperadoes, adventurers, former galley slaves, and others of that type would have been ready to rally around him. But I have come to tell you good-bye. I go again in my canoe up the Mississippi."

"Can't you stay a while in New Orleans and rest?" asked Paul—the sympathy between Paul and the priest was strong, each having a certain spiritual quality that was in agreement.

"No," replied Father Montigny, "I cannot stay. You came on your task in spite of hardships and dangers because you felt that a power urged you to it. Farewell. We may meet again or we may not, as Heaven wills."

They followed him to the door and when he was almost out of sight he turned and waved his hand to them.

The next day New Orleans, which was already deeply stirred by news of the plot of Alvarez and its discovery, had another thrill. It was Lieutenant Diego Bernal who told the five of it at the counting house of Oliver Pollock.

"Francisco Alvarez has escaped," he said. "The watch at the prison was none too strict; it may be that some of the guards themselves were friends of his. In any event, he is gone from the city, and his going has been followed by the departure of many men whom New Orleans could well spare. But whether their going now will be to our benefit I cannot tell."

"Do you mean to say," asked Henry, "that all these men have gone away to join Alvarez in some desperate adventure?"

"I have an impression, although my impressions are usually false," replied the Lieutenant, "that such is the case. The Chickasaws, the Creeks, and other tribes of these regions are his friends because he has promised them much. A capable officer with a hundred desperate white men at his back and a horde of Indians might create stirring events."

The five became very thoughtful over what he said, but when Lieutenant Diego Bernal was taking his leave he looked at them rather enviously.

"You five inspire me with a certain jealousy," he said. "I have an impression, although my impressions are usually wrong and my memory always weak, that you are strongly attached to one another, that no one ever hesitates to risk death for the others, that you are bound together by a hundred ties, and that you act together for the common good. Ah, that is something like friendship, real friendship, I should like to be one of a band like yours, but I look in vain for such a thing in New Orleans."

"I wish that you were going with us," said Henry heartily.

"I wish it, too. Often I long for the great forests and the free air as you do, but my service is due here to Bernardo Galvez, who is my good friend. But it is pleasant to see that you have triumphed so finely."

"We may encounter great dangers yet," said Henry.

"It is quite likely, but I have an impression, and upon this occasion at least I am sure my impression is not wrong, that you will overcome them as you have done before."

When he was gone, and every one of the five felt genuine regret at his departure, they went down to the river, where their fleet was anchored, and were welcomed by Adam Colfax.

"We're certainly going to-morrow," said the captain, "but nobody can tell when we'll get to Fort Pitt."

It was indeed a fine fleet of canoes and boats to be propelled by paddle, oar, and sail, and it bore a most precious cargo. Eight of the larger boats carried a twelve pound brass cannon apiece to be used if need be on the way, but destined for that far-distant and struggling army in the northeast. Stored in the other boats and canoes were five hundred muskets, mostly from France, barrels of powder, scores of bars of lead, precious medicines worth their weight in gold, blankets, cloth for uniforms and underclothing. It was the most valuable cargo ever started up the Mississippi and there were many strong and brave men to guard it.

"We carry things both to kill and to cure," said Paul.

"An' we're goin', too!" said Long Jim, heaving again that mighty sigh of relief. "That's the big thing!"

They started the next day at the appointed time. Henry, Paul, and Long Jim were In one of the leading boats, and Tom Ross and Shif'less Sol were in another near them. The population of New Orleans was on the levee to see them go, and some wished them good luck and many wished them bad. The majority of the French were for them, and the majority of the Spanish against them.

But the five, now that the time was at hand, felt only elation. The breeze blew strong and fresh over the mighty river that came from their beloved-forests and vast unknown regions beyond. They seemed to feel in it some of the tang and sparkle of the north.

"Good-bye, New Orleans," said Jim Hart, waving a long hand on a long arm; "I'm glad I've seed you, I'm glad I've laid my weary head to rest inside your walls fur a few nights, but I'm glad I don't stay in you, nor in any other town. Good-bye."

One of the brass cannon fired a salute, cannon on the fort and the galleon, Dona Isabel, replied. Adam Colfax gave the word, and at the same instant hundreds of oars and paddles dipped into the muddy current of the Mississippi. The great supply fleet leaped forward as if it were one whole, and soon New Orleans and its intrigues sank under the curve behind them.

Henry and Paul, although they did not have to work, pulled at the oars with the others, and more than one man noticed how the mighty muscles of Henry Ware's arm swelled and bunched as he made the boat leap forward. But they did not maintain their high rate of speed long. As the rivers ran it was a good two thousand miles to Fort Pitt, and they did not wish to exhaust themselves on the first twenty. Long Jim at last let his oar rest and patted Paul joyfully on the shoulder.

"Ain't you noticed nothin', Paul?" he asked.

"I've noticed a lot of river, and a fine little fleet on it."

"But somethin' better than that. Look at the trees, Paul, all along on either side, an' not a house in sight, an' not a human bein' 'cept ourselves, not a single trail uv smoke to dirty the sky. Nothin' but the woods ez God made 'em. I tell you, Paul, it's pow'ful fine jest to live!"

Paul shared his enthusiasm, but his feelings went further. Beyond a doubt they had been successful in their great journey to the south, but another and large purpose was yet left. Their task had brought them into contact with the world outside, and Paul devoutly hoped that the supply train would reach Fort Pitt in time.

The day went smoothly on. The fleet kept its formation something, like that of an arrow, with Adam Colfax's boat the point of the arrow, and those containing the five just behind. The river assumed a wholly wilderness aspect. Spanish or French boats were few and they gave the fleet a wide berth. Wild fowl swarmed once more, and they saw a bear on the bank regarding them with a half wise, half comic countenance.

When the sun was low the boats containing the five were turned toward the land. There they found a cove in which the boats could be safely tied and a fine grove in which they could cook, and which would also furnish a good place for those who wished to sleep ashore. Henry Ware and Shif'less Sol scouted in the country about but saw no sign of anything that might disturb.

All five slept on land wrapped in their blankets under the trees, and early the next morning the journey was resumed. Progress could not be rapid. They had to face the slow, heavy current of the Mississippi, and now and then Henry and Shif'less Sol and Tom Ross walked through the woods along the shore. They early established their reputations as the best hunters and shots in the fleet, and they kept the men supplied with game, bear, deer, and water fowl.

Several days passed in this manner, and Henry noticed that people were even scarcer than they had been when they were coming down. Then they had seen a few, now not more than two or three, and these avoided them.

"I don't believe they are really friendly to us," said Henry to Paul, "and something to injure us may be on foot. I wish that we were beyond the last French and Spanish settlement."

"We are too strong to be attacked," said Paul, "I don't think we have anything to fear."

Henry shook his head somewhat doubtfully, but he said nothing more on the subject at that time, and the fleet moved steadily on without event. Adam Colfax exercised a stern discipline. There were wild men in his fleet, adventurers, fellows who had floated about the world, but he was a match for any of them, and those who did not respect his voice feared his ready hand. But even these were animated by the great purpose and the thrill of a two-thousand mile journey on unknown rivers through a vast wilderness.

Half of the men slept ashore every night. They would build great fires, cook their suppers, and then sit around awhile talking. Some one would sing, and others would play strange, old tunes on accordion or guitar. Paul heard many a snatch of song in Spanish or French or Portuguese, and the wilderness would lend an additional charm to the melody. Adam Colfax, stern ruler that he was, never forbade these amusements.

"It isn't well to stop up things too tight," he would say. "Children have got to make noise, and men are a good deal the same way. If you seal 'em up they'll bust."

These evening scenes always made a deep impression upon Paul. There were the cheerful fires, lighted for cooking, and now dying down to great beds of coals, the surrounding darkness seeming to come closer and closer, but within it a wide circle of light in which many men sat or reclined at ease, smoking or talking, or doing both. All were good-natured, the weather was fair so far, the journey easy, the work not excessively hard, and the hunters brought in fresh game in plenty.

They passed the mouth of the bayou near which the Chateau of Beaulieu stood, and Henry and Shif'less Sol went to see it. They found a small detachment of Spanish soldiers sent by Bernardo Galvez in possession, but the followers of Alvarez had disappeared. The place seemed lonely and deserted, as the soldiers of Galvez kept close to the house, as if they were afraid of the wilderness.

Henry and Shif'less Sol sped back through the forest toward the river.

"Now I wonder," said Shif'less Sol, "what could hev become o' that Spanish feller. He wuz jest the kind, so proud he wuz, an' thinkin' so much o' himself, to be burnin' up with hate over what has happened."

"He has made himself an outlaw," said Henry, "and it's my opinion, Sol, that he's somewhere in these regions. And Braxton Wyatt is with him, too. That fellow will never rest in his plots against us. We'll hear from them both again. They'll try for some sort of revenge."

They rejoined the boats at noon, and three or four hours later they saw a canoe ahead of them upon the water. It contained two occupants who graded their speed to that of the fleet, keeping well out of rifle-shot.

"What do you take them to be?" called out Adam Colfax to Henry.

"Indians, I know, and spies, I think," replied Henry.

Several of the more powerful boats moved ahead of the fleet and endeavored to overtake the canoe, but they could not. The two Indians who occupied it evidently had skill and powerful arms, as they maintained the distance between themselves and their pursuers. Henry and Paul, stirred by the interest of the chase, also seized oars and pulled hard, but the canoe presently turned up a small tributary river, where they did not have time to follow it, and they saw it no more.

It was something that many might have passed as a mere incident of the river, but Henry did not forget it. His sixth sense, the sense of danger, as it were, had received a definite impression, and he paid heed to the warning.

That afternoon clouds came up for the first time. It had been very warm on the river, but the heat and closeness did not develop into a rapid storm of thunder and lightning as so often happens in the Mississippi valley. Instead, the air turned colder, and a raw, drizzling rain set it. It was then that they appreciated the comfort of their well-equipped boats. Everybody was wrapped up and protected, and they moved steadily on.

Henry and Shif'less Sol, as usual, went ashore later on to seek a landing place, and a site suitable for a camp, as it was considered wise always to give the men warm food. Presently they found a fairly well sheltered spot near the shore, a slope surrounded by high trees, and when Adam Colfax received the word the boats were tied to the bank. Some tents were pitched in the opening, and with considerable difficulty the fires were lighted. A drizzling rain still fell, but the fires finally triumphed over it, and blazed and crackled merrily. Nevertheless, this lightness and merriment were not communicated to the men, who shivered in the wet, drew close to the flames, and had downcast faces. All the five were ashore and in the shadow of the woods they held a little conference of their own, talking with great earnestness.

"I think," said Henry, "that we're being watched and that there is danger, great danger. One never knows what the wilderness contains."

"Suppose that all of us watch the night through," said Paul.

"No," said Henry, "I think, Paul, that you ought to sleep and Long Jim should do so, too. There are enough without you. To-morrow night will be your turn. We shouldn't waste our resources."

This satisfied Paul and Jim, and soon they were asleep in one of the tents, but Henry, Shif'less Sol, and Tom Ross were in the dripping forest outside Adam Colfax's own line of sentinels, seeking the hidden danger. The three remained together, and they looked everywhere. They were on the east bank and there was nothing but forest. The moon lay behind sodden clouds, and the trees were dark and shadowy. Now and then the wind swept a dash of rain in their faces, and the air remained raw and chill. Sharp as were their eyes, they could not see very far into the forest, but they could see behind them the flame of their own camp fires, a core of light in the wilderness.

"It might be better to put out all those fires," said Henry, "but I don't believe Captain Colfax would hear to it. He thinks we're too strong to fear any serious attack."

"No," said Shif'less Sol, "he wouldn't do it, an' the men would grumble, too. We've got to be the outside guard ourselves."

The three kept together, continuing their steady patrol in a semi-circle about the camp, the side of the river being guarded by the boats themselves. The rain died to a drizzle, but the clouds remained, and the skies were dark. Hours passed, and nearly everybody slept soundly by the fires, but the faithful three, gliding among the wet trees and bushes, still watched.

They heard faint noises in the forest, the passage of the wind, or the stir of a wild animal, and after a while they heard the long, plaintive and weird note, with which they were so familiar, the howl of the wolf.

It was characteristic of the three that when this faint note, almost like the sigh of the wind among the wet trees, reached their ears, they said nothing, but merely stopped and in the obscurity glanced at one another with eyes of understanding. They listened patiently, and the low, plaintive howl came again and then once more, all from different points of the compass. There had been a time when Henry Ware was deceived for a moment by these cries, but it was not possible now.

"It must be a gathering of the southern tribes," he said, "and I imagine that Braxton Wyatt is with them, giving them advice. Sol, suppose that you go to the right and Tom to the left. I'll stay in the center, and if any one of us sees an enemy he's to shoot at it and rouse the camp."

The two were gone in an instant, and Henry was left alone. That instant all the old, primeval instincts, so powerful in him, were aroused. His sixth sense, the sense of danger, was speaking to him in a voice that he could not but hear. There, too, was the quaver of the wolf. All the signals of alarm were set, and he resolved that he should be the first to see danger when It showed its head.

The clouds piled in heavier masses in the sky, and the darkness thickened. The wind blew lightly and its sound among the boughs and leaves was a long, plaintive sigh that had in it a tone like the cry of a woman. The rain came only in gusts, but when it struck it was sharp and cold. The trees stood out, black and ill-defined, like skeletons. But the forest, its wet, its chill, and its loneliness, had no effect upon the attuned mind of Henry Ware. He was in his native element, and every nerve in him thrilled with the knowledge that he would rise to meet the crisis, whatever it might be.

He was crouched by the side of a great oak, his form blurring with its trunk, his eyes, now used to the darkness, searching every covert in front—he knew that Shif'less Sol and Tom Ross would watch to right and left.

The cry of the wolf did not come again, save for a lone note, now much nearer. But when its sound passed through the forest, Henry Ware's form seemed to become a little more taut and he leaned a little further forward. Beyond the slight bending motion he did not stir.

He still saw nothing and heard nothing, but that voice which was his sixth sense was calling to him more loudly than ever, and he was ready to respond.

In front of him, thirty yards away, lay a thicket or undergrowth, and he watched it incessantly. It seemed to him now that he knew every bush and briar and vine. Presently a briar moved, and then a bush, and then a vine, but they moved against the wind, and the sharp eyes of the watcher saw it. He sank a little lower and the muzzle of his rifle stole forward. He made not the slightest sound, and good eyes, only a few yards away, could not have separated his dark figure from that of the tree trunk.

The same briar and bush moved a third time, and, as before, against the wind. It did not escape the notice of Henry Ware. Now he saw a sharp, red nose appear, and then the shaggy head behind it.

The nose remained—projected and lifted in the air, a-sniff to catch the fleeting scent of an enemy. Fancy could readily paint the ugly head of the lank body behind it. But Henry Ware was not deceived for an instant. The muzzle of the rifle that had been thrust forward, was raised now, and taking swift aim, he fired.

A wild and terrible cry swelled through the forest. An Indian warrior sprang to his feet, casting off his guise of a wolfskin, stood perfectly still for a moment, and then fell headlong among the wet bushes. The cry came back in many real echoes, the shouts of the warriors who knew now that there was to be no surprise for them. Their battle cry swelled in volume, fierce with anger, but Henry, Shif'less Sol, and Tom Ross were already running back upon the camp, sounding the alarm, and the men, roused from sleep, were springing to arms.



CHAPTER XIX

THE BATTLE OF THE BANK

"What is it? what is it?" cried Adam Colfax, as the three sentinels, who were worth all the others combined, dashed into the camp.

"An Indian army!" replied Henry Ware. "We do not yet know how strong, but we have seen their scouts! hark to them!"

The fierce war whoop rose and swelled through all the forest, died away, then swelled and died again. From the dark wall of the trees came the crackling fire of rifles. No one could be in doubt now.

"Out with the fires! Scatter them, trample them down!" exclaimed Henry.

He set the example, kicking the wood and embers in every direction. Adam Colfax was not one to resent such a sudden assumption of authority, when he saw that it meant the saving of human lives. He repeated the order and joined in the work himself. Fortunately the fires had burned low and the task was soon done, but not before two or three men had been hit by bullets from the surrounding darkness.

"Lie down, everybody!" cried Henry, and the order was obeyed at once. Then the strange night battle in the heart of the wilderness began. The savages, after their first attack, ceased to shout, and the voyagers on their own part made little noise. But they knew that the assailing force was numerous. It rimmed them on all sides save that of the river, and the little pink and red beads of fire seemed to flash from every bush. The men on the boats swarmed to the shore, but Adam Colfax allowed only half of them to come, the land force at the same time falling back on the river to meet them. He had no mind to let his communications be cut.

As the white line fell back the red came on, and uttered again the long-drawn, high-pitched war whoop, a cry of exultation. But it was not repeated, as the white line withdrew only to the bank, and yielded no more. Then both lines lay in the forest, faces invisible, but the pink and red beads of opposing fire ran back and forth in a stream. Now and then, even in the darkness, a bullet struck true. A groan would start in the white line, but it would be checked at the lips, because these were men too proud to give expression to pain.

"They can't make much progress in this way," said Adam Colfax to Henry, who had crept to his side.

"They can make it terribly wearing by keeping it up all night."

"We can withdraw to the boats entirely and row away."

"I wouldn't do it. They're sure to have boats, too, knowing that we could take to the water, and if we were to leave here they'd take it as a sign of victory and follow. Then we'd have another and worse fight."

Adam Colfax was of the same opinion. He was not in favor of yielding an inch.

"I think I can see some of their figures dancing about there among the bushes," he whispered to Henry.

"I see them, too," replied the youth, "and I think that I see white men. They must be the desperate gang that followed Alvarez out of New Orleans."

"No doubt of it."

Adam Colfax presently crept down the river bank, but came back in a few minutes.

"Now we'll see something," he whispered to Henry, and what the cautious leader said was quick to come true.

The fire of both sides died for a moment, and then came a heavy crash and a jet of fire from the river; there was a long, shrill scream as a missile curved high over the white line and dropped in the red, where it burst, flinging red-hot pieces of steel in a shower. It was followed instantly by another report, another jet of fire, and another shower of metal in the bushes. The brass twelve-pounders on the boat had opened fire, and with shot after shot they were searching the dark thickets, whence cries of rage now came.

The Americans sent up shouts of triumph and redoubled their rifle fire. Many of the more zealous were eager to creep to the thickets and turn the defensive into the offensive, but the leaders restrained them.

"No use to waste life in any such foolish fashion," said shrewd Adam Colfax. "While we stay under the cannon they won't rush us, but if we follow them into the bushes they'll have an overwhelming advantage."

It began to lighten a little, but the wind blew stronger and very cold for the time of the year. The red line was withdrawn further into the forest, but it continued an intermittent fire, and now and then uttered a challenging war whoop. The cannon every ten minutes sent a shot among them, but whether it did any damage the Americans could not tell. The defenders saved their bullets, firing only when there seemed to be a chance for a hit, and thus the hours dragged their leaden weight slowly by.

A score of the Americans had been wounded by the rifle fire, but in most cases the wounds were slight. Six were dead and they were taken to the boats, where stones were tied to them and they were dropped into the Mississippi to disappear forever. Rovers, adventurers, masterless men, they had been, but they died in a good cause, and they were not without mourners, as their bodies slid into the brown waters.

Adam Colfax had coffee made on several of the boats provided with a cooking apparatus, and it was served in the darkness to those who fought on shore. One man had the tin cup shot from his hand as he was raising it to his lips, but he calmly called for another, and when he had drunk it, went on with his part of the battle.

The hot coffee heartened them wonderfully, and the ten minute cannon shots were good company. They grew to look for them, and so strong is habit, that they knew almost to the second when the shot was due. It was like a slow, steady chorus, cheering them and telling them to hold on.

Far toward morning there was a tremendous burst of fire from the thickets, the fierce, high-pitched war shout was repeated three times, and after that, silence. Then the darkness sank away, and the day came in a burst of red and gold, gilding river and forest.

"They are gone," said Henry, "you'll find now that the woods are empty."

Many of the voyagers rushed into the forest to discover that he spoke the truth. Nowhere was there a sign of an enemy. No tree sheltered a warrior, the thickets were harmless. The peaceful morning breeze had no note of warning in its song. But when they looked more closely they saw that many dark stains had soaked into the earth, and they knew that not all the bullets and cannon balls had gone amiss.

"Well, we drove them off that time," said Adam Colfax cheerfully. "They found that they couldn't surprise us, and I guess they've concluded that they couldn't rush us either. I fancy it's the last we'll see of 'em."

Henry shook his head, and Shif'less Sol and Tom Ross, who were standing by, also shook theirs.

"We're pretty' sure that a big league of the southern tribes has been formed," Henry said, "and there are also many white men with them, white men who are driven by hate and revenge. They'll stick."

"Then we've got to defend this fleet to the last," said Adam Colfax. "It's bound to get through; and the first thing I'll have done is to cover up our barrels of powder, so no fire or hot bullets can reach it. Those barrels of powder are as precious as gold."

This task was begun at once and everybody reembarked, a joyful little army that had won a triumph and that felt able to win more if need be. The wounded made light of their wounds and all felt new strength and courage with the daylight. The five returned with the others to their boats.

"Well, Jim," said Paul to Long Jim Hart, "there's trouble to be found away from New Orleans as well as in it. Last night was not so very peaceful, and the woods did contain danger."