thing!"

Hamilton, as he gathered his wits together, began to foam with rage,
and his passion gave his bruised and swollen face a terrible look.

The story was short, and may be quickly told. M. Roussillon had taken
advantage of the first moment when he and Hamilton were left alone. One
herculean buffet, a swinging smash of his enormous fist on the point of
the Governors jaw, and then he walked out of the fort unchallenged,
doubtless on account of his lordly and masterful air.

"Ziff!" he exclaimed, shaking himself and lifting his shoulders, when
he had passed beyond hearing of the sentinel at the gate, "ziff! I can
punch a good stiff stroke yet, Monsieur le Gouverneur. Ah, ziff!" and
he blew like a porpoise.

Every effort was promptly made to recapture M. Roussillon; but his
disappearance was absolute; even the reward offered for his scalp by
Hamilton only gave the Indians great trouble--they could not find the
man.

Such a beginning of his administration of affairs at Vincennes did not
put Hamilton into a good humor. He was overbearing and irascible at
best, and under the irritation of small but exceedingly unpleasant
experiences he made life well-nigh unendurable to those upon whom his
dislike chanced to fall. Beverley quickly felt that it was going to be
very difficult for him and Hamilton to get along agreeably. With Helm
it was quite different; smoking, drinking, playing cards, telling good
stories--in a word, rude and not unfrequently boisterous conviviality
drew him and the commandant together.

Under Captain Farnsworth's immediate supervision the fort was soon in
excellent repair and a large blockhouse and comfortable quarters for
the men were built. Every day added to the strength of the works and to
the importance of the post as a strategic position for the advance
guard of the British army.

Hamilton was ambitious to prove himself conspicuously valuable to his
country. He was dreaming vast dreams and laying large plans. The
Indians were soon anxious to gain his favor; and to bind them securely
to him he offered liberal pay in rum and firearms, blankets, trinkets
and ammunition for the scalps of rebels. He kept this as secret as
possible from his prisoners; but Beverley soon suspected that a
"traffic in hair," as the terrible business had been named, was going
on. Savages came in from far away with scalps yet scarcely dry dangling
at their belts. It made the young Virginian's blood chill in his heart,