“So you’re La Violette, young woman. I’ve heerd somethin’ of you in the last day ’r so.”—He grinned maliciously at Ross.—“This youngster here couldn’t do nothin’ but talk ’bout you—he couldn’t, by ginger! I’m glad to meet you, I am. Thought I’d intr’duce myself—seein’ Ross Douglas wasn’t goin’ to do the job fer me. He’s ’fraid o’ my beauty, little gal—’fraid you might shine up to _me_. An’ this is Bright Wing, a Wyandot. He’s a purty good feller, if he _has_ got a red skin. Me an’ the Injin’s Ross’s ol’ comrades. Lordy! Hain’t we been in many a scrimmage? Gol-fer-socks! I guess so.” La Violette laughed musically at Joe’s absurdities; and, grasping the extended hands of each, said: “I trust we shall become better acquainted in the future—and be fast friends.” “Ugh!” was the monosyllabic response of the Wyandot, as he stepped aside and, leaning upon his gun, fixed his black eyes upon a distant part of the stockade. Farley had not yet had his say, however; and there was sincere admiration in his voice and manner, as he resumed: “You’re a dang sight purtier ’n I ’xpected you to be, little gal—you are, by Katherine! As near’s I could git it from Ross Douglas’s ravin’s, you was a kind of red-headed Injin squaw—somethin’ like the Winnebago jade that wanted to marry _me_. You see, miss, the women’s alluz been after _me_——” “Joe—Joe!” Ross cried, smiling in spite of himself. “It’s a fact, as sure’s my name is Joseph Peregoy——” the woodman began. But John Douglas impatiently interrupted him with: “This is no time to recount your love affairs, my friend. After you have reached the other side of the river, you may boast to your heart’s content. Let’s be off.” With the words, he started toward the gate of the dilapidated palisade, the others of the party closely following him. Farley grumbled as he went along: “Ol’ Pucker Face is as imperdent as a squawkin’ catbird—but he’s _right_. Ding-it-all-to-dangnation! When _will_ I learn not to let my limber tongue git the best o’ me?” Then aloud to Ross: “That fat an’ greasy redskin, that come sidelin’ up to us jest as you was goin’ into the hut, has been slippin’ ’round ’mong the other Injins an’ doin’ a heap o’ talkin’. I’ll bet a new ramrod he’s up to some devilment. I wish I could place him—I’ve seen him somewheres.” Ross merely nodded; and, taking La Violette’s arm, hurried her onward. Just outside the walls, John Douglas turned and whispered in his son’s ear: “We’ll proceed to the landing-place at once. If the officer who came over with us isn’t there with his soldiers, you must hail your friends on the other side and have a boat brought to you immediately. The Indians know and hate you and your comrades. There’s mischief brewing. Let’s hasten.”