The very thought was amusing to Norton. He knew very well that in such centres of civilization as New Orleans, St. Louis, and Louisville, men did not condone murder. Even in the newer river settlements, the older generation who had passed through the lawless pioneer days were savagely set upon upholding a rude justice. Boone himself exampled this, for Norton had heard of how the old frontiersman had made himself a terror while acting as magistrate in Missouri. That he had anything to fear in Louisville, therefore, seemed impossible to Norton. Duval might well have hired the assassin of the morning; yet it was more likely that some hint of his mission had leaked out, thought the Louisianian. There was most certainty a secret organization of river-pirates; so much had been amply proved to him, but he was still inclined to smile at the terror it inspired. "Still," he reflected sagely, "men like Taylor and Boone aren't exactly fools. And I rather believe Elisha Ayres is no fool, either. So, my assailant is black-bearded, wears a brushed fox-skin cap, and has a red-streaked powder-horn! Something gained, at all events. Mr. Ayres, I believe I will heed your warning." Having plenty of money, Norton called one of the negroes loafing in the sun and ordered his horse saddled, then went down the street to the store of Audubon & Rosier, where he found the junior partner and purchased a few supplies. As he was leaving, Rosier leaned over the counter with a cautious glance at the door. "Your pardon, sir I believe your name is Norton?" "It is, sir," returned the surprised Louisianian. "Colonel Taylor spoke to me of you," went on the other rapidly. "You may rely upon us absolutely, sir. If by chance you meet my partner somewhere in the woods, do not fear to trust him. He is slightly touched in the head, but save for his long wanderings is--" A man passed outside, and without a change in his low tone Rosier continued. "As I was saying, sir, General Harrison can control the Indians excellently----" Norton took the hint and passed out with a nod, storing away in his mind the name of the senior partner, Audubon. It occurred to him that if he was joining forces with a hermit Indian-slayer and a schoolmaster, a half-crazed merchant who evidently spent his time wandering in the woods would make a good third. Returning to the tavern, he found it deserted in front, though a murmur of loud voices came from the dining-room. It seemed slightly odd that dinner was not yet over, but he went to his room, got his things, and after some search located Bower's daughter in the kitchens. He paid her his bill, then went around to the front for his horse.