"I am a schoolmaster, sir"; and as he spoke, Ayres settled back in his chair and pulled forth a pipe. "By the way, Mr. Norton, the man who shot at you this morning is a hunter from down-river. His name I do not know, but he wears a fox-skin cap with the brush hanging, dresses in buckskin like yourself, and wears a black beard." Norton started. "Are you jesting, sir? Do you know this man?" "I do not." And Ayres fell to work with flint and steel, until he had a light for his pipe. "I saw him last week, and chanced to note the redstreaked powder-horn. When my friend Colonel Boone told me of it, I remembered. That is all. Ah--one point further--he was discussing some of our host's excellent Virginia whisky, in company with one Charles Duval, Gent., a fellow townsman of mine." While Norton was still trying to assimilate the information imparted by this queer individual, the bell on the roof banged out its summons to dinner. Ayres arose with a grandiose bow. "You will honour me, sir, by your company below? Then we can discuss matters at our leisure." Norton swallowed hard, nodded, and followed to the door. He began to think that he had sadly misjudged Colonel Daniel Boone. CHAPTER III Norton rather regretted his hasty choice of taverns. The "Steuben Arms" had in its day been a fine inn, but its day was done. Located conveniently to Shippingsport, its clientele now consisted largely of rivermen, merchants, and such of the townsmen as found its rates better suited to their purses than those of the new taverns. Passing through the deserted travellers' room, Ayres led his guest on into the public dining-room, where the long table was already partially filled. At the upper end sat Bower, the host--a feeble old man with tobacco-stained beard. The overhead fans were pulled by a negro girl in the corner. Ayres settled down in a chair at an unoccupied space, Norton following suit. Then, when the little man had nodded to Bower and signed to a negro waiter, he turned and spoke in a low voice. "Now, Mr. Norton, had you any definite plan of action? ... Until the table fills up, we will pass unnoticed." Norton nodded, glancing around. A number of rivermen were talking loudly; two or three merchants were discussing prices--and profanity hung over the long room like a cloud. "Well," he returned slowly, "I thought that a boat might be well laden here, quietly pick up a force of men farther down the river, and so be used as a lure. With such a spy system as seems to prevail, however, that looks rather hopeless." Ayres nodded. "A good plan, sir, a good plan, yet doubtful of success. As you say, the people in question would hear of it and you would be laughed at for your pains. The case, sir, calls for circumspection." "Quite so," agreed Norton drily, "Have you any suggestions to make, sir?"