“I doubt that you will be allowed to buy us. There is a stronger reason for our destruction underlying all this than is apparent. Don’t let it be known that we have held any communication with you, or that you are at all interested in our fate. Be cautious.” “I will remember. But I shall have to study this matter over. I hardly know how to meet this issue if the use of money is denied us. When do you leave?” “Monday, on the ‘Crescent.’” “Then I’ll plead pressing business and leave to-morrow to meet you on board the steamer when she sails. Trust me, Judah, I will not fail you.” The tears were in Judah’s throat as he tried to thank him. “I do trust you, Mr. Maxwell, next to God. I knew you would be here soon; I dreamt a year ago that I saw you coming toward me out of a cloud of intense blackness. I have watched for you ever since. I was not at all surprised when I saw you riding up the avenue to-day; only for my hope in you as our deliverer, I’d have shot myself months ago.” “There is a God, Judah,” replied Warren solemnly. “But He seems far off from my unfortunate race,” replied the man bitterly. “Never doubt Him; His promises are aye and amen. With God’s aid, I will save you or sacrifice myself.” They parted as silently as they had met. CHAPTER VII. The steamer “Crescent” tugged and pulled at her moorings as if impatient of delay. It wanted two hours of sailing time. Down the gang-plank a strange figure sauntered, clad in buckskin breeches suspended by one strap over a flannel shirt open at the throat; high-topped boots confined the breeches at the knee; a battered hat was pushed back from a rubicand face, and about his waist a belt bristled with pistols and bowie knives. Warren smiled at the odd figure, then, with an exclamation of surprise, threw away his cigar and walked up to the newcomer. “Mr. Maybee, of Erie?” he queried, holding out his hand. The party addressed turned his round, smiling face in Maxwell’s direction, and after one searching glance that swept his countenance in every lineament, grasped the proffered hand in a mighty clasp. “Dog my cats, ef it ain’t Mr. Maxwell! I’m pow’ful glad to meet you ag’in. How long you been here? Whar you bound?” “I landed in New York just four weeks ago. Still on business for my firm.” “I ‘spose it’s in order to look out fer adventures when you an’ me gits together. Remember the fus’ night we met? What a swingin’ ol’ time we had. Poor old White Eagle! Nary sound have I heard, Mr. Maxwell, since, of them unfortoonit children neither. Might a been swallered like Jonah by the whale fer all I know. I’m right chicken-hearted when I wake up at night, an’ think about the leetle gal, po’ pretty critter!”