ne of the best of the countries belonging to the Indians?"

"It is a good country, but I do not know that it ever belonged to the
Indians. No doubt they have hunted there and fought there for hundreds
of years, but so far as I know, they've never lived there."

"Then it belongs to the King," said Holderness.

Henry smiled. He rather liked this ingenuous young man who was not much
older than himself.

"A country like Kentucky," he replied, "belongs to those who can hold
it. Once the French King claimed it, but how could he enforce a claim to
a country separated from him by thousands of miles of sea and
wilderness? Now the English King makes the same claim, and perhaps he
has a better chance, but still that chance is not good enough."

The young officer sighed a little.

"I'm sorry we have to fight you," he said. "I've heard ugly tales since
I came about the savages and the white men, too."

"You're likely to hear more," said Henry. "But this I take it is our
jail."

"It is. I'll go in and see that you're as comfortable as possible."

CHAPTER X

THE LETTER OF THE FOUR

The building into which Henry was taken was built of brick and rough
stone, two stories in height, massive and very strong. The door which
closed the entrance was of thick oak, with heavy crosspieces, and the
two rows of small windows, one above the other, were fortified with iron
bars, so close together that a man could not pass between. Henry's quick
eye noticed it all, as they entered between the British guards at the
door. The house inside was divided into several rooms, none containing
more than a rude pallet bed, a small pine table, a tin pitcher, a cup of
water, and a pine stool.

Henry followed Holderness into one of these rooms, and promptly sat on
the pine stool by the window. Holderness looked at him with a mixture of
admiration and pity.

"I'm sorry, old chap," he said, "that I have to lock you up here. Come
now, do be reasonable. These rebels are bound to lose, and, if you can't
join us, take a parole and go somewhere into Canada until all the
trouble is over."

Henry laughed lightly, but his heart warmed again toward young
Holderness who had come from some easy and sheltered spot in England,
and who knew nothing of the wilderness and its hardships and terrors.

"Don't you be sorry for me," he said. "As for this room, it's better
than anything that I've been used to for years. And so far as giving a
parole and going i