"An excellent one, sir," came the surprising answer. Ayres knocked out his pipe slowly. "I would suggest that you follow Colonel Boone's advice, and go to see this man Red Hugh, of whom he told you. When you have seen him, you may expect a messenger from me at the Blue River settlement--on the Kentucky side, remember, for there are two. I may find it feasible to put your prior plan into operation and use a rich-laden flatboat for lure." "Hm!" Norton looked at the other keenly. "Do you seriously believe that Duval had anything to do with the man who shot at me this morning?" He was amazed, upon meeting the black eyes of his friend, to find them in a terrible earnestness. "Sir,"--and the dry precise voice quivered the slightest bit--"it is my honest belief that if you remain in this town overnight, you will be murdered." Startled, Norton gave the other a keen look. Then he smiled slightly. "Murdered? Man, what do you mean? Is that gang----" "I cannot say what I mean, sir," returned Ayres, rising. "I hardly know myself. God forgive me if I misjudge Charles Duval! But, sir, this is my sincere advice: go and find Red Hugh, and go within the hour. You are a woodsman; therefore go by the trails and not by boat. Trust no man. Sir, I--I have been doing much quiet investigation of late, and I am appalled. The whole thing is indefinite and terrible. Most of what was said in the dining-room there was lost upon you, but not upon me; and, sir, I will make you this prediction: That big riverman, who only came in from Cincinnati to-day, and who took the name of Blacknose in vain--that man will die." "Good Heavens, Ayres!" Norton rose, aghast at the solemn earnestness of the little schoolmaster. "Do you know what you're saying? This isn't the Indian border, but----" "Sir, this is Louisville, State of Kentucky, in the thirty-fourth year of the Independence of the United States of America," responded Ayres gravely. He bowed. "You may count upon hearing from me, Mr. Norton, at Dodd's tavern at the Blue River settlement. Let your task be to scour the woods and settlements, meantime. Sir, your servant, and--and may God keep you!" Whereupon, with another bow, the little man turned and marched stiffly away, his absurd beaver cocked jauntily over one ear and his fustian greatcoat fluttering behind him. Norton stared after him, then sank into his chair and drew out his tobacco. "By thunder!" he muttered slowly to himself, the while he stuffed his pipe, watching the lessening figure. "I seem to have set foot in a hornet's nest--and came near to getting stung this morning! Now, I wonder what that little fox of a schoolmaster suspects, and why he imagines I am in danger here in the town itself!"