ould be
taken to Detroit and sold. Now married and living on a Canada farm,
probably. Whites taken prisoners were not let to see each other. No whites
were ever kept in the village where I lived."

"What village were you kept in?"

"First in Lower Shawnee Town. Then in more towns. As I grew old they took
me to the towns farthest from the Ohio. Then came a time when I went where
I pleased, but they never took me on their war-paths south the Ohio."

By this time the country folk began to remember that I, too, was a
newcomer, and should have much information or gossip. They turned from
Ward and plied me with questions. I briefly recited for the twentieth time
since leaving Dunlap's Creek the conditions west of the mountains.

Detailed cross-examination brought forth the happenings at Howard's Creek
and the murder of the four Grisdols, and the firing of the Edgely cabin.
When I said that Black Hoof was in command of the Grisdol raiders my
audience displayed nervousness, and more than one glance was cast toward
the west. The effect on Ward was pronounced, also. Rising, he asked:

"Catahecassa led that path? I must be going. It was from his band I
escaped. His warriors followed me. I will go to the east before camping
for the night."

"He'll never dare come east of the mountains!" loudly declared one of the
men.

Ward's face was inscrutable as he walked to his horse. As he vaulted into
the saddle he remarked:

"Black Hoof has a long arm."

So it happened that John Ward, the returned captive, and I finished the
distance to Salem. Temptation assailed me as we reached the edge of the
settlement. I had planned all the time to finish my business with Colonel
Lewis at his home at Richfield. I had planned this even after learning
from Mrs. Davis of the Dales' presence in Salem.

Now, of a sudden, it seemed that I must hunt them up and look on Patricia
once more. But Colonel Lewis was waiting for me. I had endured three years
without a glimpse of the girl; and leaving Ward to ride on and relate his
experience to the Salem people I skirted the town and pressed on to
Richfield.

Arriving at the Lewis home I was informed by a colored man that the
colonel was not at the house, but somewhere about the grounds.

"An' please goodness, massa, I's gwine to fotch him in two shakes of a
houn' dawg's tail," he told me.

I threw myself on the grass and waited. Either the servant's powers of
"fotching" had been exaggerated, or else