"No one asks you to talk of him," he returned grimly. "I'll do all that's necessary. Three months ago the New Orleans merchants got together to discuss the damages being wrought upon the river-trade; they knew I was a woodsman and that I had had the luck to break up that Nagatoches gang, so they came to me. I accepted the task of smashing this Blacknose, and I mean to do it. Gentlemen, my letters." With this, he handed a letter each to Boone and Taylor, then moved a few paces on to the side of the lieutenant. "See here, Norton," exclaimed the latter, with a glance at his father, "let me join you in----" "Not much, Zach." And Norton smiled grimly. "You're a farmer, not a woodsman; besides, you've a bride to take care of. No--that's final." Taylor said no more, and John Norton gazed out at the view beyond the little rising knoll on which they stood. It was close enough to the river to be in sight of the falls, and directly opposite them, on the Indiana shore, was Clarksville. Norton's eye lingered a moment on the large house which stood at the point of rocks; he had learned on the previous day that this was the home of George Rogers Clark, one of the great frontier heroes, but now an old man and crippled. His gaze swept on to Louisville, half of its one street hidden by a rising knoll of cot ton woods. The stone court-house, the bell-roofed taverns, the Gault gardens at the upper end of town--Norton looked past these to Shippingsport, the little harbour below the falls, and his eyes narrowed. Here began his trail, as he knew well. From Shippingsport went out every ounce of freight to New Orleans from Louisville and all points up-river, for only experienced pilots could bring any craft through the falls. Louisville was to all intents the starting-point of river traffic, and somewhere between Louisville and Fort Massac, at the juncture of the Ohio and Mississippi, had vanished a full third of all the rich cargoes sent down in the past three years. Having already mapped out a vague plan in his mind, he turned to the two older men, and smiled slightly. Boone had just finished spelling out his letter painfully enough, and was staring at it in disgust; Colonel Taylor was looking at his horse's head with a stern sadness, the cause of which the younger man knew only too well. "One moment, Colonel Dick," said Norton gently. The two gazed up quickly. "I wish to draw you into nothing which can----" "Captain Norton," broke in the other sternly, "I have never refused to do my duty, whatever the consequences, nor do I intend to falter now. My aid is yours, sir."