Not knowing what a trap he was walking into, Louis Glotte spoke to the Indian in his native tongue and then mounted the ladder. As soon as the Frenchman was inside of the stockade James Morris returned the ladder to its original position. "Don't you come too near!" he shouted to the Indian, and waved him away. "I'll keep an eye on him, never fear," said Sanderson, who was at one of the port-holes. "What want you of me?" demanded Glotte, as he gazed around at the armed English and Indians in dismay. "I want to talk to you," replied James Morris. "Come into the cabin with me." More suspicious than ever, the Frenchman followed into the building slowly. Dave came after and so did Jadwin. "Now, Glotte, you can consider yourself a prisoner," said James Morris shortly. "Place your gun on that table, and your pistol also." CHAPTER XXI SAM BARRINGFORD BRINGS NEWS Louis Glotte understood the true situation at last, and the cold sweat stood out on his forehead. James Morris had a pistol in his hand, and the Frenchman saw that all of the others were also armed. "So I am your prisonair?" he said slowly. "For vat, tell me zat?" "You know well enough," put in Dave. As James Morris' pistol came up the Frenchman's gun was placed on the rough table and his pistol followed. Glotte might have showed fight, but he saw that such a course would be worse than useless. He had walked into a neat trap and with his eyes wide open. "Louis Glotte," said James Morris sternly, "I want you to tell me the truth, do you hear? If you do not tell me the plain truth, you shall suffer." "Vat ees it you vant?" "Who organized the attack on my pack-train?" "I know nothing of zat." "Stop! You do know, and you must tell me." The Frenchman grew pale and something like a shiver passed over him. He saw that James Morris was in no mood for trifling. "Who--who say zat Louis Glotte know 'bout dat?" he asked stammeringly. "I say so. You were there, for one." "No! no! I--I vas far away!" "Tell me who organized the attack." "I--I cannot!" "You can." "No! no! I--I--I--Stop! Do not shoot me! I vill tell! Eet vas Jean Bevoir." "I thought as much. Was Jacques Valette with him?" "_Oui!_ But say not I tell you, or za vill keel me!" "And Hector Bergerac?" The Frenchman shook his head. "Not Bergerac, no. He ees gone avay." "Who were the others?" After Considerable hesitation Louis Glotte named them over. Then James Morris questioned him concerning the Wanderers and learned that they had been headed by their chief, Flat Nose. The other red men he knew little about, but he said they were a dirty, irresponsible tribe, willing to do almost anything for the sake of getting provisions or rum. "They think ze pack-train carry much rum," said Glotte. "Verra mad when za found out not so."