Dave could not content himself, and wandered idly from one part of the trading post to another. His father was continually in his mind. He missed his parent as he had never done before. Suddenly as he walked along one of the men came running towards him. “I say, Dave, have you seen that redskin that was wounded in the fight?” he called out. “The one your uncle shot?” “No, I haven’t seen him.” “He is gone—we can’t find him anywhere. We all thought he was dying, but it looks now as if he had gotten away,” went on the man. He turned into the stable and then into a small compartment of the storehouse, where the powder for the post was usually kept. A moment later he came rushing into the open yelling wildly. “The Injun’s in there!” he gasped. “He has got a torch and is going to set off all the powder and blow us sky-high!” CHAPTER XXVIII IN WHICH A BATTERING RAM IS USED The announcement that the frontiersman made filled Dave and the others who heard it with horror. For the moment the youth could not believe the evidence of his senses. “Going to blow us up?” he queried. “Yes—look for yourself, if you don’t believe it!” And the man ran further away than ever. “What does he say?” asked Joseph Morris, who had just come up. “He says the Indian you wounded is in the storehouse and is going to set fire to the casks of powder stored there.” “In there?” returned the planter. “Let us stop him—if we can,” went on Dave, and rushed forward, without considering the great risk he was assuming by such action. He ran into the storehouse, and his uncle came at his heels. Sure enough, the wounded Indian was there, firebrand in hand. He was waving it over a powder keg that was broken open and muttering a weird chant. He knew that he was mortally wounded, and if he had to die he wanted his hated enemies to die with him. Dave and his uncle gazed on the scene as if bound by a spell. A single spark from that torch dropped into the powder would mean death and destruction to nearly everybody and everything in the post. The Indian was calm and continued to chant. Presently, with a start, Dave broke the spell that bound him. He made one swift leap, caught the torch from behind and sent it whizzing away through the open doorway. Some sparks dropped to the floor and as they fell his foot covered them. The Indian, taken completely off his guard, turned in consternation. The youth sprang upon him and bore him to the floor. Then Joseph Morris leaped in, and together they dragged the miscreant out of the building. A crowd of half a dozen had collected. They saw the torch and saw the red man pushed and dragged into the open. They waited for an explosion, but it did not come. Then all began to breathe easier. “Dave, you saved us all!” It was Joseph Morris who spoke. The great beads of perspiration were standing out on his forehead.