"Blow fell!" repeated the other, in sheer astonishment, while his ruddy face lost a little of its color; "why, what can you mean, Dick? Are the Indians going on the warpath; or has that precious wampum belt been lost again, as father told me once happened when he was a boy?"[4] "No, it is nothing like that, Roger," replied the other. "It concerns the title to the property our parents bought years ago, and which has been our home all of our lives, up to now." "Why, you surprise me, Dick! They bought it, I have heard, from the French traders who owned the section across the river, the pick of the land above the St. Louis settlement." "Yes, that is a fact, Roger; but it seems that there is some sort of defect in the title, and an old French trader, François Lascelles by name, with his grown son, Alexis, has threatened to turn us out of our homes by the first of next year, unless we make a new settlement with him, and purchase the ground for a second time. It seems, however, that there is just one way by which the land may be saved." "Oh! I am glad to hear that; and if there is anything that I can do, only tell me, and see how quickly I will do it. But it would nearly kill my mother to lose the farm now, because she loves the place so much. Now, tell me what that one thing is." "Listen. It seems that there is a man whose signature to certain papers is necessary in order to keep this rascal of a Frenchman from seizing the property by the first of next year. His name is Jasper Williams, and he is a hunter and scout very much like Daniel Boone, the friend of our parents. Both your father and mine have been to great trouble trying to locate this man, and, Roger, think of the bitter disappointment that overwhelmed them upon discovering a few days ago that he is far away in the unknown West, but expects to join the Lewis and Clark exploration party that started out many weeks ago, bound to cross prairies and mountains, and rivers and lakes if necessary, until they finally set eyes on the Pacific Ocean, which we know lies hundreds, perhaps thousands, of miles away from the Mississippi." Roger shook his head, as if overwhelmed with sadness. "Why, they may not be back again for two years, even if they escape the thousand and one perils they must encounter from wild beasts, hostile Sioux and Blackfeet Indians, snow pitfalls in the mountains, starvation on the deserts, and all sorts of other things. Oh! Dick, what a cruel thing this is. And it could all be changed, you say, if only that one man's signature might be obtained to a certain paper?" "Yes, so father tells me. And, Roger, do you know what I have been thinking of all this day, while we sat, and fished, and watched the coming of the storm?" His impulsive cousin glanced up at him quickly, an eager glow in his eyes and a set look on his young face.