tends to do with you is more than I've
been able to determine. Ah, he comes now!"

The parting bushes disclosed a tall figure, rifle ready, and Robert
called cheerily:

"Here we are, Dave, back again, and we bring with us a welcome guest.
Monsieur Achille Garay was lost in the forest, and, taking pity on
him, we've brought him in to share our hospitality. Mr. David Willet,
Monsieur Achille Garay of everywhere."

Willet smiled grimly and led the way back to the spruce shelter. To
Garay's frightened eyes he bore out fully Robert's description.

"You lads seem to have taken him without trouble," he said. "You've
done well. Sit down, Garay, on that log; we've business with you."

Garay obeyed.

"Now," said the hunter, "what message did you take to St. Luc and the
French and Indian force?"

The man was silent. Evidently he was gathering together the shreds of
his courage, as his back stiffened. Willet observed him shrewdly.

"You don't choose to answer," he said. "Well, we'll find a way to make
you later on. But the message you carried was not so important as the
message you're taking back. It's about you, somewhere. Hand over the
dispatch."

"I've no dispatch," said Garay sullenly.

"Oh, yes, you have! A man like you wouldn't be making such a long and
dangerous journey into the high mountains and back again for nothing.
Come, Garay, your letter!"

The spy was silent.

"Search him, lads!" said Willet.

Garay recoiled, but when the hunter threatened him with his pistol
he submitted to the dextrous hands of Robert and Tayoga. They went
through all his pockets, and then they made him remove his clothing
piece by piece, while they thrust the points of their knives through
the lining for concealed documents. But the steel touched nothing.
Then they searched his heavy moccasins, and even pulled the soles
loose, but no papers were disclosed. There was nowhere else to look
and the capture had brought no reward.

"He doesn't seem to have anything," said Robert.

"He must have! He is bound to have!" said the hunter.

"You have had your look," said Garay, a note of triumph showing in
his voice, "and you have failed. I bear no message because I am no
messenger. I am a Frenchman, it is true, but I have no part in this
war. I am not a soldier or a scout. You should let me go."

"But that bullet in Albany."

"I did not fire it. It was someone else. You have made a mistake."

"We've made no mistake," said the hunter