"Kitty, gal," went on Grigg with renewed earnestness, "I ain't askin' much of ye. I've allus give ye the best I had, ain't I? Now, looky here. Fur's anyone knows, you're my daughter an' I could force ye any ways I wanted to. But I don't. I love ye, gal, an' all I want is fer you to stick by me a bit longer. I'm gettin' old, Kitty, an' ain't as well able to take care o' myself as I used to be. If you're mixed up with that spy feller, Kitty, ye've done me a mighty bad turn, but I ain't carin' fer that. Now ain't you a-goin' to come along o' me, little gal? You ain't a-goin' to leave the ol' man, be ye?" "What do you want of me?" Sorely shaken, the girl looked at him. "Why shouldn't I go back home, then?" "Because I need ye, gal," returned Grigg earnestly. "I'd 'a' brung ye afore, only I didn't know as I'd need ye. They's a camp down-river a piece, where I aim to set out quite a spell, an' I want ye to cook an' take care o' things fer us. Kitty, don't go back on me after I done brung ye up all them years! Even if ye don't love me, don't ye reckon ye owe me somethin'? I've took good care on ye, gal----" Terribly pale, the girl turned to Norton. He read the weariness of her eyes, and started to speak, but she stopped him: "No--he's right, Mr. Norton. I owe him some duty, though it will never go so far as marrying that man." And she flashed Duval one contemptuous glance. "Good-bye, Mr. Norton--and God bless you!" Norton bowed over her hand, bringing it to his lips. The touch thrilled him, and for a long moment he looked down into her grey eyes, not trusting himself to speak. "Good-bye, for the present," he said huskily, his finely-chiselled face very tender, "And remember--I shall see you again." With no more words she turned to Grigg, who helped her to the saddle of Duval's horse, and they started away. Norton gazed after them, feeling the girl's high character grip at his heart-strings; then he turned at a hail from the river landing. "Hey, you fellers! Who's fer Louisville?" "All right!" replied the Louisianian. He looked at Duval, and his eyes flamed out like a sword. "Duval," he said softly, "you're a yellow dog! You've tried murder and failed; now play your last card and do it soon, or you're gone!" Immobile, his face set as though carven in stone, Duval gazed at him. Then his strong white teeth flashed out in a slow smile. "If you wish to make your last will and testament, Captain Norton, anyone in Louisville can direct you to my office. Sir, your servant!" And with a bow he passed down to the waiting boat. Norton followed, smiling a little, his heart sore within him for Kitty Grigg. "But, by gad, it's in the open now!" he thought. "Duval is smart, but his craft has sprung a leak--and the tide will swamp him whether I live or die!" CHAPTER X The trip to Louisville was uneventful, yet significant. As Norton went aboard the boat, the captain touched his arm and whispered. "Captain Norton?"