duce you to the three new Shawnee
warriors that you used to know, when they were white, an' that you called
then Henry Ware, Tom Ross, and Sol Hyde."

"Why, what has happened?" asked Paul, still in the depths of astonishment.

Then Henry spoke, and he spoke gravely.

"Sol did not sleep long, Paul," he said, "and when he awoke he joined us.
Then we went to meet the three Shawnee messengers, carrying war belts and
peace belts, for the Miamis to choose. It was not a business for you,
Paul. We met them, there was a fight--well, they will never appear in the
Miami village, and we are here in their place."

Paul understood, and he shuddered a little at the deadly conflict that
must have raged out there in the forest while he slept. Then he looked
curiously at the three. He never would have known any one of them
anywhere. They were savages in every aspect--painted and garbed like them,
and with their hair drawn up in the defiant scalp lock.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"Deliver the belts at the Miami village," replied Henry Ware, "but they
will be peace belts, not war belts."

"It is death," said Paul in protest.

"It is not death," replied Henry. "We will come back safely, and it is for
a great stake. You and Jim must remain here in the woods, waiting for us
again, and we'll trust to your skill and caution not to be caught. If the
warriors become too thick around here you might retreat to the island.
Anyway, the signal will be as before--three wails of the whip-poor-will."

Paul was impressed by his words, which were spoken with gravity and
emphasis.

"Yes, it's in a great cause, Henry," he said, "and we'll wait, expecting
you to come back."

Five minutes later the three newly made warriors took their path through
the forest, and they never looked back. Yet Henry Ware felt emotion.
Although he regarded Paul Cotter almost as a younger brother, he respected
him as a high type of one kind of being, and they were comrades true as
steel. Moreover, he knew that he and Ross and Sol were engaged upon the
most dangerous of tasks, and the chances were that they would not come
back. Yet he faced them with a high heart and dauntless courage.

The three walked swiftly and silently in single file, and neither Shawnee
nor Miami eye would have known that they were not Indian. They walked,
toes in, as Indians do, and they had every trick of manner or gesture
that the red men have. All trace of civilization was gone. He