“There is no doubt that you and your friends all feel like it, Tumult, since that little hanging affair didn’t shut off my wind,” said the renegade, with a smile of defiance. “I told the settlers the day they hung me, that when I addressed them again, it would be under different circumstances. So it was. The affair at lake Wildwood is but the beginning of my vengeance upon those who essayed to destroy my life.” “The _beginnin’_ o’ yer vengeance!” exclaimed Old Tumult; “ha! ha! ha! that’s a good ’un. I think it’s the eend, too, fur when ye ’scape the clutches o’ Old Tumult, jist whistle, will ye?” The bold, wicked, defiant renegade laughed loud and bitterly, then replied: “It’s useless to throw words at one another, Tumult, for my day has not yet come, unless you shoot me upon this spot.” “No, no, Satan,” returned Old Tumult; “I will hand you over to the settlers, and let them bid ye, ‘git ye hence.’” “Then bind me hand and foot, or _any_ way, so you release your bony claws from my flesh,” returned Sherwood, with a shrug of pain. “Ho! ho! ho!” roared Old Tumult, and he shook the renegade as though he had been a kitten; “why, man, ye’ve only felt the weight of my hands.” With the assistance of Town., the renegade was securely bound hand and foot, with thongs made of the buck-skin leggings of one of the dead savages. The renegade glanced toward the two dead Indians with a look of regret, yet when his eyes met those of the two maidens, his features wore no downcast nor defeated look. Dick Sherwood had no fears of death in any form. He was a moral coward as his deeds betokened, but physically speaking, he was utterly reckless in his cunning and daring. Old Tumult and Town. now consulted as to the next steps to be taken. They knew full well that they were in the midst of danger, and that it would be unsafe to remain there during the night. They must either begin their return to the post, or seek some safe retreat. But it became a question, which of these two courses they should pursue. Suddenly they were startled by a faint rumbling of thunder along the western sky. This at once decided their course, as they discovered that one of those furious autumnal storms was gathering. “Insomuch as what we can’t reach the post to-night, ’specially afore the storm, we’d better take refuge on the Two Islands, in the Sioux river. Thar’s a kind o’ shanty on one o’ ’em, that’ll do to pertect yerself and the gals from the storm. As to me, I’m storm-proof, Town.” “It shall all be as you say, Tumult,” replied Town.; “you know what is best for us.” So preparations were at once made for departure to the Two Islands. Sherwood’s feet were unbound, and to prevent his escape in the dark, a strong rope was made of hickory-bark, and one end attached to the renegade’s neck--Old Tumult keeping the other end in his hand. Town. Farnesworth, following the old scout and his prisoner, conducted Madge and Clara through the almost impenetrable gloom of the woods.