Quick as a flash, he threw his gun to his shoulder and fired. But quick as his movements were, John Douglas’s were quicker. Just before the roar of the firearm rang out upon the air, the father sprang in front of his son. The next moment he sank to earth, mortally wounded. With a lionlike roar of rage, Duke leaped upon the murderer and dragged him to the ground. Three rifles cracked in rapid succession; and three painted braves met death. The spell was broken. The savages gazed about in stupefaction. Then, dimly realizing what had happened, they broke and fled toward the cover of the woods, just as the soldiers, cheering lustily, dashed up. La Violette dropped upon the ground and pillowed John Douglas’s head upon her lap. Ross bent over the dying man, and in a voice full of anguish asked: “Father, can you see me—can you speak to me?” The fast-glazing eyes looked steadily into those of the questioner, and the white lips whispered faintly: “I see both of you, my—my children; but very—very dimly. Do not—move out of my sight. I’m dying! It is best so. I have given my life for you, my son; and I—I die happy. I am going—give me your hands! Good-by—I—I——” With a deep, tremulous sigh, he closed his eyes. Twice the deep chest heaved spasmodically. And he was dead. “My father—oh, my father!” Ross moaned, still clinging to the dead man’s hand. Joe Farley overheard the words and muttered to himself: “Ross Douglas’s father! Scar Face—Hiram Bradford—John Douglas—all one an’ the same. Dang-it-all-to-dingnation! Hang-it-up-an’-take-it-down-an’-cook-it! Won’t wonders an’ mysteries _never_ come to an end?” Then, in a low tone, he said to the Wyandot: “Injin, we’d better call Duke away from that painted lump o’ taller out there. I s’pect the dog’s worried the cuss a good ’eal by this time.” “Ugh!” Bright Wing snorted contemptuously. “Duke no worry fat paleface-redman now; fat paleface-redman heap much dead. Me stick knife in him.” “Huh!” Farley ejaculated. Then to the dog: “Here, Duke, come away from that carcass. You’ll git p’izened nosin’ ’round such a varmint—you will, by Molly! Come away, I say!” The hound obeyed. Ross, had arisen, and stood silently gazing into the face upturned to the clouded heavens. La Violette was weeping bitterly. The English officer advanced to Ross’s side and said with much feeling: “I can’t tell you, young man, how sorry I am that this thing has happened. But the savages are unruly; they can’t be controlled——” Then he abruptly stopped speaking and peered into the upturned countenance. Starting back, he exclaimed excitedly: “Why, this is Hiram Bradford—one of our own men!” Ross nodded stiffly. “Curse the savage brutes!” the officer muttered as he turned and strode away. “Whom will they turn upon next?” Taking with them the body of John Douglas—but leaving George Hilliard and his red associates where they fell—the company made their way to the boat, and embarked for Fort Meigs. [Illustration] CHAPTER XXI.