red
about. Wal, Joe could go some if he onct got started."

"I'll bet he could. He was the likeliest lad I've seen for many a
day."

"If he'd lasted, he'd been somethin' of a hunter an' fighter."

"Too bad. But Lord! you couldn't keep him down, no more than you can
lots of these wild young chaps that drift out here."

"I'll allow he had the fever bad."

"Did you hev time to bury them?"

"I hedn't time fer much. I sunk them in the spring."

"It's a pretty deep hole," said Zane, reflectively. "Then, you and
the dog took Girty's trail, but couldn't catch up with him. He's now
with the renegade cutthroats and hundreds of riled Indians over
there in the Village of Peace."

"I reckon you're right."

A long silence ensued. Jonathan finished his simple repast, drank
from the little spring that trickled under the stone, and, sitting
down by the dog, smoothed out his long silken hair.

"Lew, we're pretty good friends, ain't we?" he asked, thoughtfully.

"Jack, you an' the colonel are all the friends I ever hed, 'ceptin'
that boy lyin' quiet back there in the woods."

"I know you pretty well, and ain't sayin' a word about your runnin'
off from me on many a hunt, but I want to speak plain about this
fellow Girty."

"Wal?" said Wetzel, as Zane hesitated.

"Twice in the last few years you and I have had it in for the same
men, both white-livered traitors. You remember? First it was Miller,
who tried to ruin my sister Betty, and next it was Jim Girty, who
murdered our old friend, as good an old man as ever wore moccasins.
Wal, after Miller ran off from the fort, we trailed him down to the
river, and I points across and says, 'You or me?' and you says,
'Me.' You was Betty's friend, and I knew she'd be avenged. Miller is
lyin' quiet in the woods, and violets have blossomed twice over his
grave, though you never said a word; but I know it's true because I
know you."

Zane looked eagerly into the dark face of his friend, hoping perhaps
to get some verbal assurance there that his belief was true. But
Wetzel did not speak, and he continued:

"Another day not so long ago we both looked down at an old friend,
and saw his white hair matted with blood. He'd been murdered for
nothin'. Again you and me trailed a coward and found him to be Jim
Girty. I knew you'd been huntin' him for years, and so I says, 'Lew,
you or me?' and you says, 'Me.' I give in to you, for I knew you're
a better man than me, and because I wanted you t