"No time for that," said Wayne's scout. "In these times we must say farewell with our lips. We have lost time already." He turned to the water's edge, and Kate's lover dropped Carl's hand to follow. "Can you swim?" asked Catlett. "Certainly." "Then here we go. Keep alongside of me and swim noiselessly." A moment later the twain glided into the water, leaving an anxious group on the shadowy shore. Silently, so far as the form of swimming was concerned, the friends kept together and approached the northern bank of the Maumee. "Do you know who took the girl?" Catlett asked his companion. "How should I?" was the question that met his. Wayne's scout smiled. "I thought that you might have formed an opinion," he said. "No;" and then came the question, "what do you know about it?" "Not much; but if she escapes us, the terror of these woods will see her." Oscar Parton's face became pale. "Do you mean----" He paused, as if afraid to utter the name. "I mean that man!" said Catlett, as if his companion had finished his sentence. "Jim Girty has caused more anguish in this part of the world than the tomahawks and fire brands of a whole red nation. I believe that John Darknight was here to-night, and he and the White Whirlwind have been friends." The whispered conversation grew still, for the gloomy shore was discernible, and the thought of Kate Merriweather in the hands of the greatest renegade in the northwest, was enough of itself to seal Oscar Parton's lips. A long fringe of woodland welcomed the swimmers, and they drew themselves from the water. No noise save the plash of the ripples at their feet broke the stillness, and the sound was so musical that they could scarcely believe that the woods and the waves beautified a land of death. Wringing the water from their garments, the scouts inaugurated a search for the trail, or, in other words, for the spot where the boat had been drawn from the water. A line of moonshine lay along the edge of the stream, and this underwent a close examination, Harvey Catlett hunting down and his companion up the river. While Oscar Parton was not an experienced woodman, like his friend, the mysteries of the trail were not great ones to him. He had been reared in the forests, and from the very tribes that now sought his heart's blood he had learned much of the science of tracking man and beast. He felt proud of the notice which Catlett had taken of his woodcraft in permitting him to search alone for Kate's trail, and he inwardly hoped that he would have the good fortune to find it. The circumstance would elevate him in the eyes of the young scout. Now through the forest, and now back to the river, with its edging of moonlight, the two men crept like ghosts, letting nothing escape them. One could not distinguish the other for the dimly lighted distance that lay between them, but preconcerted calls told from time to time that the search had not been abandoned.