ive due attention. As nearly as the spy could judge there were from
twelve to fifteen Shawanoes in camp. Since Boone had reported the party
as about double that number, several of them--not counting those that
had fallen--were still absent.

The ranger was profoundly interested in two of these absentees. One was
little Mabel Ashbridge, and the other The Panther, leader of the
Shawanoes. The closest scrutiny failed to reveal either of them, and
though he had no real cause for doing so, he could not help connecting
their absence with each other.

His suspicion proved right, for only a few minutes passed when two
figures strode from the gloom into the firelight. One was Wa-on-mon,
whose hand gripped the arm of the young captive. He walked at a moderate
pace to the fallen tree, where he motioned to Mabel to take her seat.
She obeyed with the same promptness she would have shown had the command
come from her father or mother.

The Panther remained standing, and the three who had been seated on the
log also rose and advanced, several others drawing near and taking part
in the conversation.

"Ah!" muttered Kenton, between his set teeth, with his flashing eyes
fixed upon The Panther, "if I could only have come 'cross you and the
little gal!"

Seated with the firelight falling upon her face, the ranger was able to
see it quite plainly. She had lost the cute little homemade cap in the
flurry, and her luxuriant hair hung loosely about her shoulder. She was
neatly clad in homespun, though the dress, the stockings, and the shoes
were of coarse texture.

The countenance wore the scared expression which showed that the child
suspected her dreadful peril. The marks of weeping were noticed, but the
ferocious Wa-on-mon had probably terrified her to that extent that she
was forced to deny herself the relief of tears. Resting on the fallen
tree, with her dimpled hands clasped, she hardly removed her eyes from
the chieftain and his immediate companions. She appeared to feel they
were about to decide her fate.

From his concealment, not far off, Kenton allowed nothing in his field
of vision to escape him. He could not catch a word uttered by the
Shawanoes, but he did not believe the chief was discussing with his
warriors the question of what should be done with the little captive,
for the reason that it was not his habit to debate such matters with his
followers. His rule was so absolute that he made his own decisions,
leaving to ot