I am! How thankful! Now I know I shall succeed. We are
going to capture Vincennes, Kenton, are we not? We shall, sha'n't we,
Jazon? Nothing, nothing can prevent us, can it?"

Kenton heartily returned the pressure of the young man's hand, while
Oncle Jazon looked up quizzically and said:

"We're a tol'ble 'spectable lot to prevent; but then we might git
pervented. I've seed better men an' us purty consid'ble pervented lots
o' times in my life."

In speaking the colloquial dialect of the American backwoodsmen, Oncle
Jazon, despite years of practice among them, gave to it a creole lisp
and some turns of pronunciation not to be indicated by any form of
spelling. It added to his talk a peculiar soft drollery. When he spoke
French it was mostly that of the COUREURS DE BOIS, a PATOIS which still
lingers in out-of-the-way nooks of Louisiana.

"For my part," said Kenton, "I am with ye, old boy, in anything ye want
to do. But now ye've got to tell me everything. I see that ye're
keeping something back. What is it?" He glanced sidewise slyly at Oncle
Jazon.

Beverley was frank to a fault; but somehow his heart tried to keep
Alice all to itself. He hesitated; then--

"I broke my parole with Governor Hamilton," he said. "He forced me to
do it. I feel altogether justified. I told him beforehand that I should
certainly leave Vincennes and go get a force to capture and kill him;
and I'll do it, Simon Kenton, I'll do it!"

"I see, I see," Kenton assented, "but what was the row about? What did
he do to excite ye--to make ye feel justified in breakin' over yer
parole in that high-handed way? Fitz, I know ye too well to be fooled
by ye--you've got somethin' in mind that ye don't want to tell. Well,
then don't tell it. Oncle Jazon and I will go it blind, won't we,
Jazon?"

"Blind as two moles," said the old man; "but as for thet secret," he
added, winking both eyes at once, "I don't know as it's so mighty hard
to guess. It's always safe to 'magine a woman in the case. It's mostly
women 'at sends men a trottin' off 'bout nothin', sort o' crazy like."

Beverley looked guilty and Oncle Jazon continued: "They's a poo'ty gal
at Vincennes, an' I see the young man a steppin' into her house about
fifteen times a day 'fore I lef' the place. Mebbe she's tuck up wi' one
o' them English officers. Gals is slippery an' onsartin'."

"Jazon!" cried Beverley, "stop that instantly, or I'll wring your old
neck." His anger was real and he meant wha