“Excellent! Black-Hawk, I claim these prisoners as my own, as my men took them without help.” “They are yours,” replied Black-Hawk. “An Indian chief knows how to be just.” “Now then, Captain Charles Melton, you are in my power; do you understand, in my power! You shall rue the day when you dared come between me and the woman I love.” “What do you mean, renegade?” replied the young scout. “I never wronged you in my life.” “Perhaps; we shall see how it turns out. Keep them safe, boys; set a double guard upon them, and for your lives, let none escape. Ah, my good, valiant, chivalric Joe, how you will repent having raised your hand against me.” “I do repent, Will,” said Joe, quietly. “I repent most awfully. I ought to have lifted yer ha’r on the spot, by gracious. ’Twould have served you just right, and saved a good deal of trouble.” “Take them away, boys, take them away. Ha; don’t let the girl speak to them or she will contrive some way to set them free. Look out for Minneoba above all others, for she is as cute as the devil. Miss Sadie, do I deceive myself when I think that you will not _now_ disdain to hold some conversation with me?” “What do you wish to say to me, sir?” replied Sadie, who saw the dreadful peril of her friends, and wished to save them if possible. “Say to Black-Hawk that you wish to speak to me apart from the rest and he will give you permission. I see a way in which you can save these men.” She spoke to the chief, who nodded kindly, and she followed Black Will a little distance from the camp. “That is far enough,” she said, pausing under a great tree. “What have you to say to me?” “Change your way of speaking; be more complaisant to me, my dear girl, for the more kindly you use me the better it will be for yonder men who are doomed beyond hope if I so much as lift a finger. First of all—do you love this Captain Melton?” “He has never spoken to me,” replied Sadie. “How do I know that he cares for me?” “That is not the question at issue. Do you love him? That is what I asked.” “How can I answer that, when I do not know my own heart? He is a brave and good man, and I could love him dearly if he loved me as well. I will say no more upon that point.” “At least you care enough for him to wish to save his life?” “Yes—yes; I would do almost any thing for that,” she replied, eagerly. “It has gone as far as that, has it? My dear girl, you are further gone than you imagined. Now, I do not wish to be incumbered by prisoners. If we can not come to terms, I shall find it necessary to put these fellows out of the way, and shall certainly do so. There are many ways in which to do this, and my friends the Indians will doubtless be happy to take the laboring oar out of my hands.” “Do you mean that you would be base enough to give them up to the torture?” she cried.