“Let him be as cunning as the whole Shawnee Nation and yet he must pass through the neck of the bottle before he can escape,” boasted Polcher. “I don’t care how much he wanders about in the Creek country. He is our prisoner until he strikes into the Cherokee country and gets beyond the Hiwassee River. Even should he by some miracle dodge the Cherokees of Great Hiwassee and the lower villages and cross the river he will stand but a small chance of reaching the Tellico. But should he do that still the Cherokees will stick at his heels till he reaches the French Broad. We’ll see if his Shawnee cunning can carry him that far!” Polcher’s confidence and enthusiasm invigorated McGillivray’s spirits and his sombre countenance lightened. “You have done well, Polcher. I think we shall bag the young man yet.” He walked toward the house with more confidence in his step, but on second thought halted and called after Polcher, who was leading his horse away— “One word more, Polcher: how far will my Creeks go?” “Until they get him,” was the laconic answer. “I’m afraid that won’t do. The Cherokees might not understand. They may think I’m riding rough-shod over their land,” McGillivray worried. “Not at all, your Majesty,” hastily reassured Polcher. “The messengers I sent are intelligent fellows. They will explain the situation fully to John Watts. He will welcome any aid that will stop the man from getting back to the Watauga settlements. It’s as much his game as it is ours.” “We’ll hope so. But after I’ve eaten I think I will send a talk to Watts and Old Tassel to make sure they understand.” “If your Majesty please, I’m sure Watts will be in hot pursuit of the man before your talk can reach Great Hiwassee. As for Old Tassel, I didn’t think it wise to have the messengers see him. He’s weak. The less he knows about things the better it will be. Time enough to explain to him after we’ve caught our man.” McGillivray frowned a bit, inclined to disfavour any risk of arousing the Cherokees’ resentment, but accepted the advice by nodding his head and waving his hand in dismissal. In a few minutes there came a soft tap on Sevier’s door and a house-servant entered and informed— “My master asks Mr. Sevier to join him at the table.” Sevier made ready to follow and noted that the servant was curiously studying the knives on the wall. “Only the four are missing,” laughed the borderer, suspecting the man was under orders to make sure the “guest” had not secreted a blade on his person. “I am unarmed. Lead the way.” With a deep bow the servant did so, and Sevier soon stood in a pleasant side room. McGillivray was at the window. A table was set for two. The emperor haughtily returned the borderer’s greeting and motioned for him to be seated. After the servant had served them and had withdrawn Sevier blandly asked— “How goes the chase?” “You should know. You were at the window when I talked with the Indians and with Polcher,” was the cold reply.