squat Tory, Coleman, and he uttered
a cry when he saw the tall figure of the great youth. There was no light
but that of the moon, but he knew his foe in an instant.

"Henry Ware!" he cried, and snatched his pistol from his belt.

They were so close together that Henry did not have time to use a
weapon. Instinctively he struck out with his fist, catching Wyatt on the
jaw, and sending him down as if he had been shot. Shif'less Sol and Tom
Ross ran bodily over Coleman, hurling him down, and leaping across his
prostrate figure. Then they ran their utmost, knowing that their lives
depended on speed and skill.

They quickly put the Council House between them and their pursuers, and
darted away among the houses. Braxton Wyatt was stunned, but he speedily
regained his wits and his feet.

"It was the fellow Ware, spying among us again!" he cried to his
lieutenant, who, half dazed, was also struggling up. "Come, men! After
them! After them!"

A dozen men came at his call, and, led by the renegade, they began a
search among the houses. But it was hard to find the fugitives. The
light was not good, many flitting figures were about, and the frantic
search developed confusion. Other Tories were often mistaken for the
three scouts, and were overhauled, much to their disgust and that of the
overhaulers. Iroquois, drawn from the funeral ceremony, began to join
in the hunt, but Wyatt could give them little information. He had merely
seen an enemy, and then the enemy had gone. It was quite certain that
this enemy, or, rather, three of them, was still in the town.

Henry and his comrades were crafty. Trained by ambush and escape, flight
and pursuit, they practiced many wiles to deceive their pursuers. When
Wyatt and Coleman were hurled down they ran around the Council House, a
large and solid structure, and, finding a door on the opposite side and
no one there or in sight from that point, they entered it, closing the
door behind them.

They stood in almost complete darkness, although at length they made
out the log wall of the great, single room which constituted the Council
House. After that, with more accustomed eyes, they saw on the wall arms,
pipes, wampum, and hideous trophies, some with long hair and some with
short. The hair was usually blonde, and most of the scalps had been
stretched tight over little hoops. Henry clenched his fist in the
darkness.

"Mebbe we're walkin' into a trap here," said Shif'less Sol.

"I don't