“What nonsense you’re talking, Joe!” Ross cried sharply. “She’s the wife of another. Let’s drop the subject.” “Ugh! No Fleet Foot’s squaw—fat paleface’s squaw,” grunted Bright Wing sagely. “An’ Fleet Foot takes it mighty cool, too,” Farley muttered to himself. “’Pears to me he’s thinkin’ a heap more ’bout the little red-headed gal he _hain’t_ found, than he is ’bout this gal he _has_ found. But I don’t blame him. Amy Larkin’s played him false—she wan’t forced into no marriage. You can’t fool me on women folks. Hain’t I had the ’xperience, I’d like to know? Oh, gosh, yes!” The three rolled over upon the ground, and two of them were soon snoring loudly. But Ross did not fall asleep so readily. For an hour or more, he lay with closed lids thinking—thinking. At last, however, outraged nature asserted itself. Early the next morning, the young scout managed to procure enough water to remove the stains of battle from his person. After he had washed himself, dressed his slight wounds, and eaten his breakfast, he went to call upon General Harrison. The commander’s seamed visage was alight with genuine pleasure, as he took Ross by the hand and led him to a seat. Closely scanning his caller’s face, the old warrior remarked: “Douglas, I’m delighted to see you—to again grasp your hand. I didn’t know you were with General Clay’s command; that you were in yesterday’s terrible battle”—the commander’s careworn features twitched—“until your two old comrades came to me and asked permission to go to your aid.” “Did they do that?” Ross quickly inquired. “Yes, indeed. Didn’t they tell you?” Douglas shook his head; tears were in his eyes. “They’re loyal fellows,” Harrison continued feelingly; “they would give their lives for you, at any time.” “I know,” Douglas answered chokingly. “I’ve four good friends, at least, General Harrison—yourself, my two old comrades, and my dog. I’ve had a varied experience in the last eighteen months. I’ve endured much——” “And all for your country’s sake,” the general interrupted. “You have suffered mentally and physically.” Douglas remained silent and Harrison continued: “And the worst is not come. But we’ll go on to the glorious end.” “Yes,” was the firm reply. “Yes,” the commander went on, “all of us have made sacrifices for home and country. But opposition will not appal us; defeat will not discourage us. We are _Americans_. This exacting service, with its suspense—its disappointments, is calculated to discourage and unnerve. But, pshaw!”—with a light laugh—“of what am I talking? We’re American patriots—we can stand _anything_.” Then with animation: “But I didn’t bring you here to talk of such things. During yesterday’s sorties we took a number of prisoners—British regulars, Canadian militiamen, and Indians. At present they’re confined in the blockhouses; and among those in the blockhouse at the southeastern angle of the fortification, is an old acquaintance of yours.”