r
Paul saw a little old log cabin, with a heavy open door that sagged on
rude wooden hinges.

"Come," said Henry, and they crossed the clearing to the cabin, pushing
open the door. Paul looked around at the narrow place, and the protecting
walls gave him much comfort. Evidently it had been abandoned in great
haste. In one corner lay a tiny moccasin that had been a baby's shoe, and
no one had disturbed it. On a hook on the wall hung a woman's apron, and
two or three rude domestic utensils lay on the floor. The sight had Its
pathos for Paul, but he was glad that the Holts had gone in time. He was
glad, too, that they had left their house behind that he and Henry might
use it when they needed it most, because he began to be conscious now of
a great weakness, both of body and spirit.

Hooks and a stout wooden bar still remained, and as Henry closed the door
and dropped the bar into place, he exclaimed exultantly:

"They may get us, Paul, but they'll pay a full price before they do it."

"I'd rather they wouldn't get us at all," said Paul.

Nevertheless his imagination, leaping back to the other extreme, made the
lone cabin the great fortress that he wished. And a fortress it was in
more senses than one. Built of heavy logs, securely chinked, the single
window and the single door closed with heavy oaken shutters, no bullet
could reach them there. Paul sat down on a puncheon bench, and breathed
laboriously, but joyously. Then he looked with inquiry at Henry.

"It was built by a man named Holt," said Henry. "He was either a great
fool or a very brave man to come out here and settle alone. But a month
ago, after the Indian wars began, he either became wiser or less brave,
and he went into Marlowe with his family, leaving the place just as it
is."

"He left in time," said Paul.

CHAPTER III

THE LONE CABIN

Henry was deeply thankful for this shelter because he knew how badly it
was needed. He went to the single little window, which sagged half open on
hinges made of the skin of the buffalo. He pushed it back in place, and
fastened it, too, with a smaller bar, which he was lucky enough to find
lying on the floor.

"Well, Paul, we are here," he said.

As he spoke he looked keenly and anxiously at his comrade.

"Yes, Henry," Paul replied. "Here we are, and mighty glad am I. It's good
to be in a house again after that river."

Henry noticed at once that his voice was thinner and weaker than usual,
and he sa