caution, caution, caution.

Raymond Louis de St. Luc."

The three looked at one another. Garay was in the third course of his
breakfast, and no longer took notice of anything else.

"Those associated with us in Albany and New York," quoted Willet. "Now
I wonder who they are. I might make a shrewd guess at one, but no
names are given and as we have no proof we must keep silent about him
for the present. Yet this paper is of vast importance and it must be
put in hands that know how to value it."

"Then the hands must be those of Colonel William Johnson," said
Robert.

"I fancy you're right, lad. Yet 'tis hard just now to decide upon the
wisest policy."

"The colonel is the real leader of our forces," persisted the lad.
"It's to him that we must go."

"It looks so, Robert, but for a few days we've got to consider
ourselves. Now that we have his letter I wish we didn't have Garay."

"You wouldn't really have starved him, would you, Dave? Somehow it
seemed pretty hard."

The hunter laughed heartily.

"Bless your heart, lad," he replied. "Don't you be troubled about the
way we dealt with Garay. I knew all the while that he would never get
to the starving point, or I wouldn't have tried it with him. I knew by
looking at him that his isn't the fiber of which martyrs are made. I
calculated that he would give up last night or this morning."

"Are we going to take him back with us a prisoner?"

"That's the trouble. As a spy, which he undoubtedly is, his life is
forfeit, but we are not executioners. For scouts and messengers such
as we are he'd be a tremendous burden to take along with us. Moreover,
I think that after his long fast he'd eat all the game we could kill,
and we don't propose to spend our whole time feeding one of our
enemies."

"Call Tayoga," said Robert.

The Onondaga came and then young Lennox said to his two comrades:

"Are you willing to trust me in the matter of Garay, our prisoner?"

"Yes," they replied together.

Robert went to the man, who was still immersed in his gross feeding,
and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Listen, Garay," he said. "You're the bearer of secret and treacherous
dispatches, and you're a spy. You must know that under all the rules
of war your life is forfeit to your captors."

Garay's face became gray and ghastly.

"You--you wouldn't murder me?" he said.

"There could be no such thing as murder in your case, and we won't
take your life, either."

The face of t