What can stop me," he said, reverting again to English as he turned and
addressed Betty, "from killing you as my wife was killed by white man?"

"My God can stop you," answered the girl, in a steady voice, though her
heart beat fast and her face was very pale.

"Your God!" exclaimed the savage. "Will your God defend the wicked?"

"No, but He will pardon the wicked who come to Him in the name of Jesus,
and He will defend the innocent."

"Innocent!" repeated Unaco, vehemently, as he turned and pointed to the
botanist. "Does you call _this_ man innocent?"

"I know nothing about that man," returned the girl, earnestly; "but I do
know that my father and I, and all the rest of us, are innocent of any
crime against you."

For a few seconds the savage chief gazed steadily at Betty, then turning
towards the botanist he took a step towards the spot where he sat and
looked keenly into his face.

The botanist returned the gaze with equal steadiness through his blue
spectacles.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

"The big man with the blue glass eyes is a villain," said the Indian
chief, after a long scrutiny of the botanist's countenance.

"So some of my mistaken friends have thought," returned the man,
speaking for the first time in his natural voice, which caused a thrill
to pass through Paul Bevan's frame.

"He is a thief," continued the chief, still gazing steadily at the blue
glasses, "and a murderer!"

"He's all that, and liar and deceiver into the bargain," thought Tolly
Trevor, but Tolly did not speak; he only vented his feelings in a low
chuckle, for he saw, or thought he saw, that the robber's career was
about to receive a check. As the thought passed through his brain,
however, he observed from the position in which he stood that Stalker--
for, as the reader has doubtless perceived, it was he--was working his
hands about in a very soft slow, mysterious, and scarcely observable
manner.

"Oho!" thought Tolly, "is that your little game? Ha! I'll spoil it for
you!"

He quietly took up a piece of firewood and began, as it were, to amuse
himself therewith.

"You has many faces, many colours," continued Unaco, "and too many
eyes."

At the last word he plucked the blue glasses off the botanist's nose and
flung them into the fire.

"My enemy!" gasped Paul Bevan, turning first very pale and then very
red, as he glared like a chained tiger at his foe.

"You knows him _now_?" said Unaco, turning abruptly to Paul.