“Joe, I want you to take him back to your cabin and keep him until I return. I tried to run away from him this morning, but he has trailed me—although I traveled by water. I left him at the Wyandot village above here. Take him away, Joe; I can’t bear to leave while he’s looking at me like that.” And there was a quaver in Ross Douglas’s voice. “Duke him much good dog—him heap big brave,” volunteered Bright Wing, nodding vigorously. “Quick, Joe—take him away,” Ross said huskily. “I ain’t a-goin’ to do it,” replied Farley, with a stubborn shake of the head. “Why?” Ross inquired in surprise. “’Cause the dog loves you an’ ort to go with you—that’s why. He’ll jest natur’ly pine away an’ die if you leave him behind you.” “But I can’t take him with me,” Douglas argued; “he would be in the way—he would get himself and me into trouble.” “Ther’s another reason why I won’t take him back to my cabin,” Joe remarked, his pale eyes twinkling. “What is it?” “Jest this: If you’re goin’ to war, I’m goin’ with you. I hain’t got a chick n’r child to leave—an’ I’m goin’.” “You?” “Yes.” “With Bright Wing and me?” “Fer sure.” “I thought you were opposed to my going?” “I was—an’ I am yit. But if you go, I go, too.” “Perhaps we don’t desire your company.” A smile fluttered about the corners of Ross’s mouth. “It don’t make no differ’nce,” was the dogged reply; “I’m goin’ anyhow. So move y’r things ’round in the dugout an’ make room fer us. I’m all ready. Ding-it-all-to-dangnation! I can’t stay here an’ see you go—an’ I _won’t_.” “Shall we take him, Bright Wing?” Douglas mischievously inquired. “Ugh!” exploded the Indian. “Joe him got heap long gun—him shoot much straight. Him go. Three braves kill sight more bad Shawnees than two. Joe go.” “Very well,” Ross said slowly, with assumed reluctance in his tone, “you shall go, Joe. Is there anything you want to bring from your hut?” “Nothin’.”—With a decided shake of the head. “In you go, then—and let’s be off.” A few minutes later there were “three men in the boat—not counting the dog,”—and they were moving rapidly down the stream, in the shade of the overhanging trees. When some two or three miles below the village of Franklinton, Douglas addressed a few words in the Wyandot tongue, to the Indian, who again occupied the bow of the canoe. Bright Wing nodded and immediately turned the prow toward a little cove upon the eastern shore. A moment later the boat grated upon the sandy beach, and Ross sprang ashore. “Keep Duke with you,” he cried as he ran lightly up the bank. “I’ll not be gone long.” “Say! wher’ you goin’ now?” Farley called after him. But the young man did not deign to reply.