He was working on the last row of shocks, when Michael Stoner, a one-time companion scout with Kenton, but now trader, traveling to Virginia to return in the spring with a pack train of goods, handed him a letter from Dorothy. Scarcely waiting for John to thank him, much less answer questions as to friends in the cane-brake country, he hastened on to join his companions, yet in sight, near the foot of the Gap. The evening of the day they finished shucking and housing the corn, the fall rains set in. They were ready for winter; and John should have been enjoying the sleepy quietude that follows hard physical labor; but never before had his parents seen him so restless and disquieted. The poise of the sober, dreamy John was disturbed. Dorothy’s letter had done it. He had carried it for several days and read it many times. Ashamed to let his mother see him do so again, he walked to the creek and would have climbed out upon the great boulder where they sat the night before she left but the swift, swollen stream intervened. Then he read the letter again; and stamping his foot with vexation, tore it into fragments and cast them forth upon the yellow stream. She wrote: “* * * Father leaves Danville for Boston the first of November, taking me with him. I am to remain and attend a finishing school for young ladies, making my home for the winter with Aunt Mildred and Uncle John. Father will remain but a few days. “He has become quite intimate with General Wilkinson, who makes our home his headquarters whenever he comes to Danville. He seems to like me; though he is not the sort of man I would ever fancy. He came to Kentucky in 1784; has a large store in Lexington and a small plantation on the Town Fork of Elkhorn Creek; is more than thirty years old, is short and fat, though elegant and fastidious in appearance, with a bland and courteous manner, an easy address and his general manner uphold his title, which was conferred upon him for distinguished service at Saratoga. “Recently he has obtained a permit from Governor Miro, of Louisiana, to transport tobacco by river to New Orleans, where it is bought at a good price by the Spanish Government. Father is acting as one of his purchasing agents and can talk of nothing else except the General and the prospect of wealth that is presented to us because of this business connection. “I do not like the spirit that pervades his talks with father. He does not seem to have any love for Virginia and little regard or patriotism for the Union. He is one of the leaders of what is spoken of as the Court Party; and he, father, Judge Sebastian and Colonel Harry Innes, with several other men I do not know, meet at our house. One is a Spaniard, Don Pedro Wouver d’Arges; and they treat him with great deference.