McGillivray’s exultation changed to bitter disappointment. The newcomer certainly was not Kirk Jackson; nor did he bear himself as a prisoner, although surrounded by warriors. He still carried weapons in his belt and held his head high. As the emperor stared Polcher ran across the open ground and intercepted the cavalcade. He exchanged a few words with Hajason, then turned and ran toward the big house. “The rascal has courage, but he shall hang if any harm has come to the Tonpits,” muttered McGillivray. “Your man Polcher seems to be acquainted with him,” murmured Sevier between mouthfuls. The horsemen passed from sight. McGillivray conquered his desire to run out and interrogate the outlaw and resumed his chair at the table, forcing himself to an appearance of indifference. He had barely swallowed a mouthful of the meat when the servant came in and mumbled something. “Bring my pistols,” the emperor curtly commanded. The servant turned to a small desk and produced a brace of Spanish weapons, long of barrel and profusely inlaid with gold and silver. Thrusting one of these into the bosom of his coat and dropping the other in his lap, McGillivray next directed— “Now show both of them in.” Polcher came first, bowing low. Behind him with head erect stalked the huge form of Red Hajason. Just inside the threshold the outlaw halted and stared insolently at the emperor. “Red Hajason, of the Hiwasee and the Tugalo rivers,” announced Polcher, standing to one side. “He was picked up by your Majesty’s Indians while on his way here with an important talk for you.” “I’ve heard of you, Hajason,” lazily informed the emperor. “And I never heard anything good. I was just telling John Sevier that if you have done what you’re charged with doing I probably shall have to hang you.” Hajason opened his bearded lips in an ugly grin and replied— “My neck’ll stand a heap of hangin’, I reckon. An’ it ain’t never been cracked yet. But I ain’t here to talk ’bout hangin’. I come to talk trade.” “Well, what have you to trade?” “A white man an’ a white woman.” “Major Tonpit and his daughter?” “Them’s the two,” grinned the outlaw. “—— your insolence!” softly hissed McGillivray, the hand in his lap closing over the pistol. “It’s been done many times,” grunted Hajason, beginning to grow angry. “You and Polcher worked together in this?” demanded McGillivray. “Work with him? With that double-faced varment? Red Hajason works alone,” growled the outlaw. “But the man called Hester helped you in this little coup,” said McGillivray, now folding his arms and leaning back to stare the outlaw squarely in the face. Again the outlaw’s brutal good humour asserted itself, and he chuckled and informed: “I don’t count Hester as a partner. Jest a dog-gone fool. Howsomever, I’ll admit it was him what put the game up to me an’ showed me there was money in it. That’s all I asked of him.” Darting a wrathful glance at Polcher, McGillivray bitterly reminded: