t even the slightest sound. They saw presently through the
trees and bushes a faint red shade that grew fast to a glow and then to a
glare.

Henry stopped, sank lower, and beckoned to his comrades. They crept to his
side and looked over a steep little cliff directly upon the Spanish camp.
Most of the soldiers were grouped about a large camp fire, and Francisco
Alvarez was among them in a place of honor.

Hidden in the deep shrubbery the three occupied points of vantage, and,
while secure from observation themselves, they could easily see all that
passed in the glade. Several tents had been set, although the flaps were
wide open and within one of these sat Francisco Alvarez in all the
gorgeous attire of a Spanish officer, most fastidious in his taste. The
gold on his uniform glittered, the lace on his cuffs was snowy and fresh,
and the polished hilt of his small sword gleamed in the firelight. He had
the air of one who expected distinguished guests.

"Now I wonder what has become of Braxton Wyatt," whispered Paul. Nowhere
could he see a sign of the renegade.

"He is coming," whispered Henry, who had what Shif'less Sol would have
called an intuition.

Two of the Spaniards heaped more wood upon the fire. The logs crackled
and blazed merrily, casting long tongues of flame across the glade, and
sending a grateful heat into the veins of the warm-blooded Southerners.
The flurries of rain ceased, and the skies brightened a little. A star or
two peeped out.

"Ah!" said Henry in the lowest of whispers, "here they come!"

The bushes at the far side of the glade parted and three figures came into
the open. They took but two or three steps forward and then stopped full
in the blaze of the firelight, where every feature showed like carving in
the red glow.

The hidden watchers recognized at once the three who had come. They were
Braxton Wyatt, Yellow Panther the Miami chief, and Red Eagle the Shawnee
chief. Paul repressed a little cry of amazement that he should see the two
Indian leaders so far from the territory of their tribes. They must intend
much to come such a journey.

Braxton Wyatt stepped back a little, as if having performed his function
of guide he would now remain awhile in the background, but the two great
chiefs stood motionless, side by side, magnificent specimens of savage
life, bronze of skin, tall of figure, powerful of chest, thin, eagle-like
faces, and defiant scalp-locks waving above. The imaginative P