"I hardly think you could be in two places so far apart, at one and the same time," answered Steve, his temper well in hand now. "After all, it is sufficient for me to know that you were in that camp in the woods at Albany, where Hunting Jim and I saw you distinctly. That was a long chase, Monsieur Jules, and I fancy it must have been somewhat of a surprise to you and your men to come across so small a band prepared to make a fight of it. Your men must have been discontented. I believe we killed ten at least." This time he left no doubt in the Frenchman's mind that his rascality was discovered, and as Steve looked down at him he saw a gleam of malice light up the eyes of the ruffian, a gleam which seemed to say, "I will kill you at the first opportunity, Steve Mainwaring." Then Jules Lapon suddenly changed his intentions, a smile of triumph wreathed his face, and he pointed to the placard on the tree. "After all, monsieur, it is not a question of men who have been killed, or of my presence at Albany," he said easily. "It is a question of this notice. You have read it?" "I have." "Then you will obey?" "If I do not? Supposing I stay?" "Monsieur, you see this whistle?" Jules took a whistle, made of horn, from his belt, and held it before Steve's eyes. "You observe that little toy, monsieur? Ah. Now I will tell you. Supposing you are so rash as to stay, I shall blow that whistle, and within an hour the far shore of the river will be darkened by the boats of my friends." "Cut-throat Indians, monsieur," said Steve. "You will be careful to describe my friends properly," cried Jules, making an obvious effort to control his anger. "I was saying that the Indians would come. They would hound you and your friends out of this settlement, and, after that, who can keep a check upon them?" He shrugged his shoulders and looked significantly at his two comrades. "Only the men with the guns," answered Steve. "I know your Indians, monsieur, and I know also that they have ravaged our settlements cruelly. But for all your threats, I will not give up my father's property. He was here long before the French had advanced south of Lake Erie. He paid for this land, and he has expended labour upon it. It is his. No king of France or his servants shall demand it of him or of me." Steve looked the three Frenchmen calmly in the eyes, and then stepped up to the tree. Plunging his hunting knife under the sheet of tin, he levered it from the bark, and, tearing it free of the nail, threw it into the river. "That is what I think of your demand and of your placard, Jules Lapon," he said, "and I promise that if you come with your Indians and drive me away, I and my father will hound you off the place. For a time we English may be beaten back. But, mark my words, we shall regain our own again, and you will be defeated."