Twenty-four hours after Stephen Kidder had warned Walter Neal against returning to Portsmouth the latter was skirting the west bank of the Pascataqua River, within sight of the tract of land whereon he hoped to see at some day a grist-mill owned by himself.
When Stephen selected such goods as he thought Walter might need during his enforced retreat, he did not neglect anything which would possibly be useful to the fugitive, and the result was that when the young messenger started through the pathless forest, his load was so heavy as to retard his progress very decidedly.
Therefore it was that on the following morning he had not yet arrived at his proposed destination, although it was but a comparatively short distance from Portsmouth.
He had slept in the woods where night overtook him, and at the first faint light of day was making a frugal breakfast of the bread and cheese sent by his mother.
When the gloom of night had been dispersed by the heralds of the approaching sun, Walter was at that point on the river from which he could see the landmarks of his tract, and the knowledge that he was about to enter on his own possessions served to cheer his drooping spirits.
"If it is necessary to skulk around here in the woods to avoid being seen by Sam Haines, there is no reason why I should not make the most of my time," he said to himself, as hope began to spring up once more in his breast. "There is little chance I shall be able to raise any money for the mill now, when I have been defrauded of a goodly portion of my poor possessions, but I can at least make preparations for the day when I shall be in a position to carry out my plans. It is better to work than remain idle."
It was the first time since he took leave of his friend Stephen that the mental burden had been lightened, and now he pressed forward eagerly, impatient to begin the work resolved upon.
There was very much which he could do toward making ready for the erection of that wished-for mill, and he felt confident the labour would not be useless, although performed so far in advance of the building operations.
With this idea in mind, his first care was to select the most advantageous spot for a mill, and to this end he deposited his burden on the shore of the river, where it could readily be found again, after which he set about inspecting the property.
He spent several hours in this work, and had fully decided upon the location for the building when he was startled by hearing what sounded very like a human voice among the underbrush a short distance from the shore.
With his gun held ready for instant use in case any danger threatened, he went cautiously in the direction from which the noise appeared to have come, and after a brief time threw aside the weapon with an exclamation of dismay.
In a dense portion of the forest, where were several aged trees partially decayed at their base, he dimly saw the figure of a man, apparently pinned to the ground by the heavy branches of a fallen hemlock.
He was sufficiently versed in woodcraft to understand that the unfortunate had either felled a tree which had fallen upon him, or passed beneath one of the giants of the forest at the precise moment when its rotten trunk gave way under the burden of the enormous top.
A low moan from the sufferer told he was yet alive, and at the same time proclaimed that relief must soon come if death was to be cheated of its prey.
"Hold out a few minutes longer, friend," Walter cried, cheerily. "I must have an axe before I can do very much toward getting you free from that timber."
There was no reply; the poor wretch's strength was nearly exhausted, and the boy understood that he must work, with all possible speed if he would save a human life.
"It seems that my coming here may be of more use than simply hiding from Sam Haines," he cried, as he ran with all speed toward the spot where the goods had been left. "I have been grumbling because Stephen brought an axe instead of a hatchet, but now I should be able to do very little without it."
Ten minutes later he was chopping furiously at the imprisoning branches, using due care to prevent additional injury to the helpless man, and when so much of the foliage had been cut away as to give him a clear view of what was beneath, he exclaimed in surprise,—
"An Indian! What could have brought him so near the town?"
Then he forgot the colour of the sufferer, thought not of what his kind had done in the way of savage cruelty to helpless women and children, but devoted all his strength and energies to releasing him.
The wretch was so nearly dead as to be unable to render any assistance to his would-be rescuer, and at least half an hour elapsed before Walter could drag him from beneath the heavy weight which had so nearly deprived him of life.
When this work was accomplished, it seemed to have been in vain, so far as saving life was concerned; but, fortunately, Walter did not cease his efforts. Dragging the apparently lifeless body to the river, he applied such restoratives as were at hand, and after a short time had the satisfaction of seeing the red man open his eyes.
"Better not try," he said, as the Indian attempted to speak. "You have had such a squeezing as would discourage a bear, and it will take some time to get over it. Luckily I haven't much of anything to do except take care of you, and I'll warrant we shall soon have you around as well as ever. So far as I can make out, no bones have been broken, though I doubt if you could go through the same experience again and come out anywhere near whole."
There was nothing more he could do to relieve the sufferer, and after cautioning him to remain quiet, Walter set about putting up some kind of a shelter against the elements.
A "lean-to" of brush was soon erected, and in one corner the boy made a bed of fir boughs, upon which he placed the sufferer, who, after the first attempt, made no effort to speak.
Walter divided with the Indian his store of bread and cheese, and had the satisfaction of seeing the latter eat heartily.
"I reckon you're all right if you can get away with as much food as a well person, and it's time I did something toward laying in a stock of provisions. Will you stay here while I go after game? There are partridges enough, even though deer should be shy."
"I wait," the Indian said, with a sigh as of relief; and the boy, gun in hand, plunged into the thicket.
The result of this first hunting excursion was half a dozen plump birds, and Walter had seen such signs as told he would have but little difficulty in bagging a deer on the following morning.
During the remainder of the day Walter acted as nurse and cook; but never once did the Indian speak.
Next morning, before the sun appeared, he was out to replenish the larder, returning with the hind-quarters of a deer and, when a plentiful supply of steaks from these had been broiled over the coals, the Indian ate like one in perfect health.
"You'll do now, I reckon. It doesn't stand to reason that you feel like moving around very much, therefore, you shall stay here while I go to work."
Then he set about making the foundations for a mill that might never be completed, and when it was so dark that he could no longer see to work, he felt satisfied with the progress made.
The Indian had cooked supper, and the boy showed that he appreciated the culinary efforts, rude though they were.
"You know Jim Albert?"
This question was asked when an hour had been spent in almost perfect silence by the occupants of the lean-to, and the boy was startled both, by the name and the voice.
"Yes; I know him," Walter replied, grimly, thinking of the part played in his capture by the half-breed.
"Big rascal!"
"You're right. I know it isn't just the thing to give way to revengeful thoughts, but some day that scoundrel shall answer to me for what has been done. If he and Sam Haines had remained where they belonged, I wouldn't be here hiding as if I really was a thief."
The Indian did not continue the conversation, although Walter gave him every encouragement, and at an early hour the tired boy sought the repose to be found in slumber.
When he set out for work next morning the Indian accompanied him, and during the day laboured faithfully hewing trees, or gathering rocks which were to form the foundation of the proposed mill.
"I didn't fancy having an Indian for a companion at first, but it begins to look as if finding him under that tree would be a fortunate thing for me. We are getting this place into shape very fast, and when it is possible for me to raise the money, it won't be necessary to spend very much time making ready for the more serious portion of the work."
During the week which followed, with the exception of the Sabbath, the two laboured industriously, save at such tittle as one or the other spent in hunting, and Walter could see the outlines of the structure he intended one day to build.
A large pile of rocks had been rolled together to form the lower walls, huge timbers were hewn and roughly "squared" for the framework, and a road from the riverbank to the highway, four miles distant, was "blazed" a goodly portion of the way.
During all this time, while he had laboured as industriously as if it was some project of his own, the Indian remained comparatively silent. He had told the rescuer his name was Sewatis; that he was a member of the Penobscot tribe, and acquainted with "Jim Albert," but never a word regarding the reason for being in that vicinity.
There had been no scarcity of food; the forest teemed with game, and if the labourers fancied deer, bear or birds, it was only necessary to go a short distance from the encampment in order to get it.
Almost unconsciously Walter had explained to his assistant what it was he hoped to do. There had been many times when it seemed positively necessary he should speak with some one, and to the silent Indian the boy talked freely. It was as if thinking aloud, because no reply was made unless one was absolutely required; and it is quite possible the young messenger would have been greatly surprised had some one been there to tell him he had confided more fully in Sewatis than in any other person except his mother.
More than once had Walter suggested that there was no reason why the Indian should remain if he had business elsewhere.
"I suppose you think because I pulled you from under that tree you must stay here and work, but it is all a mistake. You have already repaid me ten-fold, and I don't want you to believe there is any necessity of stopping with me."
"Me wait," Sewatis would say, whenever the conversation touched upon this subject, and by the end of a week Walter would have felt decidedly lonely without his silent companion.
"There's one thing about it," the boy said once, when the Indian had refused to leave him, "while you are here I feel as if I could learn at any time how matters are at home. It wouldn't be much of a task for you to go into Portsmouth?"
Sewatis made a gesture which signified that such a journey would be as nothing.
"I think you had better go and see my mother presently. Of course she won't be worrying about me, for she knows I am able to take care of myself; but at the same time it will give her some satisfaction to know what I am doing. You could find my mother?"
Sewatis nodded.
"And it wouldn't be too hard work for you to tell her what we have done."
Another nod, and something very like a smile on the silent Indian's lips.
"If you don't open your mouth to her any oftener than you do to me, you might stay on the farm a year without her knowing what we have been doing."
"I tell all; make heap much talk."
"Then we'll start you off about day after to-morrow. How long would you want for the journey?"
"Go to-day, back to-morrow."
"Of course you understand it wouldn't do to say a word about me to Jim Albert, or anyone whom, he knows?"
"Jim Albert, rascal!—I fix him."
"But you mustn't get into trouble while you are there, Sewatis, or I shouldn't see you back again very soon. The white men wouldn't allow any fighting in town, and there is no reason why you should settle with Jim Albert on my account."
"I fix him," Sewatis repeated; and Walter began to fancy it might not be prudent to send the Indian into the town, however eager he was to learn what Master McCleary had done in his behalf.
He argued the matter for some time with his companion, receiving; only the same reply, and then abandoned the attempt.
"It is certain Sewatis won't tell many secrets, whoever he may meet, or whatever trouble he may get into, therefore I need feel no anxiety on that score. Perhaps it will be as well to let him go, and take the chances of his not meeting the half-breed."
The next day was the Sabbath, and the two remained in camp, doing nothing save to prepare the meals.
Next morning Walter set about hewing timber, and Sewatis was sent into the forest after game, for the larder was not as well filled as it should be.
The Indian was absent the greater portion of the day, and when he returned, Walter was half a mile from the camp, up the river.
"What's the matter?" the boy asked, as the Indian approached suddenly, looking disturbed.
"White man come; down shore, huntin' for trail!"
Walter dropped his axe in dismay. He could think of but one reason why any person should seek him, and that was to arrest him for stealing Samuel Haines's horse.
"They mustn't see me," he muttered. "Go back to the camp, that they may think it is you who has been doing this work, and I win strike off into the forest."
Sewatis handed Walter the gun, and silently turned to retrace his steps.
Walter's first impulse was to bury himself in the depths of the forest, and he had already started toward the denser portion when the thought occurred to him that he was reasonably safe in the vicinity of the camp, where he would be able to learn when the newcomer retraced his steps.
"If it is a white man I'll guarantee to keep out of his way, and yet remain near enough to hear what may be said," he muttered to himself, as he halted suddenly, and then moved cautiously toward the lean-to.
After ten minutes had elapsed he could distinguish the sound of voices, and a few seconds later he was running at full speed toward the person from whom he had previously been trying to escape.
He recognized the speaker's tones, and knew Stephen Kidder had come to pay a visit, or bring the cheering news that he might return.
"Am I to go back to town?" he cried, as he came into the cleared space wherein the camp had been built; and then, seeing Sewatis standing in a threatening attitude in front of the shanty, he added, "This is a friend of mine; make him welcome."
The Indian obeyed by moving quickly out of sight among the foliage, and he had hardly disappeared when the two clasped each other's hands in a caressing way, as Stephen said,—
"I wish I had come to bid you go home; but Master McCleary says you must have patience yet a little longer. Haines still threatens to have you arrested, and the Sons of Liberty are more obnoxious than ever in the eyes of those who pay homage to the king."
"Would Governor Wentworth, who has so often spoken in a friendly tone to me, allow an act of injustice such as my arrest would be, for I simply sought to escape from him who held me unlawfully?"
"The members of the Council are not in accord with the new ideas, and Master McCleary believes they might allow Haines, who has no slight influence among them, to do as he desires."
"Let it be so, then. When did you see my mother last?"
"Yesterday."
"And she is well?"
"Well, and contented that you should be here. She is cared for by your friends in town, and prefers that you remain until the winter comes, rather than venture back to be thrown into prison."
"You say she is cared for?"
"Master McCleary attends to it that she wants for nothing. She is now with his mother; the crops have been harvested, and there is no longer reason why anyone should stay on the farm. There have been brave doings in town since you left, and unless the Sons of Liberty are all imprisoned, it looks as if we might some day be freed from the heavy burden of taxes."
"Tell me everything!" and Walter threw himself on the ground in front of the camp, looking positively happy, now he had been assured his mother did not suffer because of his absence.
"In the first place, the New Hampshire Gazette appeared with a heavy mourning border on the day before the Stamp Act was to go into effect, and Master McCleary read aloud to the people on the street the article calling upon those who would be free men to resist this most unjust tax. If so many of the best citizens had not been abroad that night, I believe the Governor would have called the guards out; but there were too many prominent men mingled with the throng to make such a proceeding safe or possible. On the first day of November the church bells were tolled, as if for a funeral, and when a large crowd had gathered near Samuel Leavitt's store, a figure called the Goddess of Liberty was brought out on a bier, with Thomas Pickering, John Jones, Jotham Lewis and Nehemiah Yartridge acting as pall-bearers.
"All the people on the streets, myself among the number, followed the procession to where a grave had been dug, and when the image was about to be buried, Jotham Lewis called out that he thought he perceived some signs of life in Liberty. With that the statue was carried back to Master Leavitt's store, and Master McCleary addressed the assembled throng, saying that if the Goddess could be restored to health her Sons were the ones to do it. He was greeted with mighty cheers, such as must have been heard even at the Governor's house; and when the tumult had died away, Master George Messerve declared that he did not intend to accept the office the king had bestowed upon him. He then delivered his commission and instructions to the Sons of Liberty, and next morning all who are known as belonging to that association marched around the town, carrying the parchments like a banner, on the point of a sword.
"Master Messerve then took his oath before Justice Claget that he would not attempt to issue stamps, and the commission was given to the captain of the 'Saucy Mary,' who is sworn to deliver it up to the Commissioners of the Stamp Office in London immediately upon his arrival in England. You see, matters have changed considerably since the day you started out to deliver a message to Master Revere."
"If I had only been there!" Walter exclaimed, when Stephen ceased speaking from sheer lack of breath.
"You would not have seen much of the bravery, I fear. The Sons of Liberty could not attempt to prevent your being made a prisoner on the charge of stealing, however well they understand the case; or that would, as Master McCleary says, be too much like trying to overthrow all law and order, whereas they profess only to battle against injustice."
"What is injustice, if not imprisoning me on such a charge?"
"You understand what I mean, Walter. Haines does not think for a moment that you would be declared guilty; but by making the arrest he can have revenge, since you must lay in jail some time before being brought to trial."
"Yes, yes; I understand it all. But there are times when I feel bitterly the necessity of remaining in hiding, as if I was in fact a criminal. Have you any more news?"
"A messenger from Boston told of effigies of certain persons being burned, or hung on the gallows, and from the reports I think it safe to say there has been quite as much excitement in that city over the Stamp Act as in Portsmouth. People who a few weeks ago denounced the Sons of Liberty as seditious persons, now speak of them with respect, saving as in the case of Haines and his following. Master Leavitt declares the time has arrived when the Province of New Hampshire shall rule herself, and that unless the king shows a more friendly disposition, he will lose his possessions in America; but of course anything of that kind cannot happen."
"Greater deeds have been done."
"But not by a few people against so mighty a king. I am afraid we shall all be made to suffer because of what has already been done against his majesty's commands."
"If the people can prevent the use of stamps they can do very much more; but we won't talk of such matters now. It is enough that I have with me a friend with whom I can speak, and I must make the most of your company while you are here."
"Then suppose you begin by telling me where you found the Indian?"
Walter gave his friend a detailed account of all that had happened since the two parted in the woods ten days previous, and concluded by showing him what progress had been made toward the erection of the mill.
Stephen was astonished because of the amount of work which had been performed, and said, laughingly,—
"Indeed, I begin to think Samuel Haines did you a favour when he made it necessary for you to hide in this place. At the rate you have been labouring, the mill will be in working order within a month."
"It would, for a certainty, if I had the necessary materials, which can only be procured with money. I truly believe Sewatis and I could do very nearly the whole of the task."
"There's no question about it. Shall you try to frame the building?"
"Yes, so far as to get the timbers hewn but we could not make shift to raise it without assistance, and what lumber we have in shape will not be hurt by seasoning, although I do not use it for two years. Now let me show you where I propose to locate the road in order best to accommodate those living this side of Portsmouth."
Stephen was more interested in the progress of Walter's work than in the stirring events he had just been describing, and the remainder of the day was spent by the two young men in discussing every detail connected with the proposed mill.
Shortly before nightfall Sewatis returned to camp with a fine buck, and prepared the evening meal after his own fashion, which was certainly a fashion not to be despised.
It was Stephen's intention to return to Portsmouth on the following morning, and the friends sat around the camp-fire until a late hour that evening. Walter had many messages to send to his mother and Master McCleary, and if the messenger remembered them all his memory must have been prodigious.
Finally, the young men crept into the lean-to where Sewatis lay, apparently sleeping, and very shortly after they had stretched themselves out on the fragrant fir boughs their eyes were closed in slumber.
Then, if a spectator had been in the vicinity, would have been witnessed a singular scene.
Soon after the heavy breathing of the white men told that they were in the land of dreams, Sewatis rose to a sitting posture, listened intently, although nothing could be heard save the cries of the night-birds and the usual sounds of a forest when the mantle of darkness has fallen.
The Indian lay down again; but even as his head touched the fir he began to slip softly toward the fire until his body was outside the shelter of the lean-to. Then he rolled over and over until the bushes hid him completely, and no sound came to tell of his whereabouts.
Ten minutes after he disappeared a face peered from amid the foliage, and the odour of rum might have been detected upon the air.
The sleepers were suddenly awakened by a crashing amid the underbrush, and as they leaped to their feet, awake and on the alert in an instant, Walter cried,—
"Look out, there! don't shoot! One of those is Sewatis; but who is he struggling with?"
At that moment the combatants rolled toward the fire in such a manner that the faces of both could be seen, and Stephen cried,—
"It's Jim Albert! Look out for yourself, Walter; he has come here for mischief!"
"And he seems to be getting about as much as he wants," Walter replied, grimly, as he darted forward to assist Sewatis in case it should become necessary.
The Indian did not require aid, for before either of the boys could have interfered, he was uppermost, clutching Jim Albert by the throat so vigorously that the latter's tongue was protruding from his mouth.
"Don't kill him! Don't kill him!" Walter shouted.
"Not yet; big rascal!" Sewatis muttered, as he deftly tied his blanket around the upper portion of the prisoner's body in such a manner that the intruder was helpless to do anything save kick, and that was not a pleasant form of exercise, as he soon learned, for the fire was so near that at the first attempt his toes were buried among the glowing coals.
After that painful experience the prisoner remained quiet, and in a few seconds Sewatis had him trussed hand and foot, like a chicken ready for roasting.
"Me fix him! heap big rascal!" the captor exclaimed, lying down once more as unconcernedly as if nothing out of the usual course of events had transpired.
"What do you suppose this fellow came here for?" Stephen asked, as if unable to surmise the reason for Jim Albert's presence.
"He is in the pay of Sam Haines, and tracked you, most likely, in order to discover my hiding-place."
"If that had been the case he would have been in Portsmouth again by this time."
A sudden thought came to Walter, and bending over the prisoner quickly, he searched under his greasy belt.
"That is why he came!" the boy cried, as he leaped to his feet, holding a parchment in his hand. "The halfbreed had undertaken to arrest me, and here is his warrant."
Not until Stephen had examined the document carefully was he satisfied the statement was correct, and then he said, holding the parchment over the fire,—
"We can dispose of this easily enough, but what shall be done with Jim is more than I can decide."
Before he could drop the document from his fingers Sewatis leaped from his couch, seized the warrant, and went back to his slumbers, saying, as he did so,—
"Heap big rascal! me keep talkin'-skin."
"We shall have to let the Indian take care of Jim and his belongings whether we want to or not," Walter said, with a mournful smile. "The whole affair shows me, however, that I am not secure from Sam Haines even here in the woods. He has found one messenger, and can readily get another."
"Now, don't despair. Your red friend has some scheme in his head, or I'm mistaken. He has taken such good care of the fellow that we needn't worry about him, and if I am to leave this place at daylight, it's time I got some sleep."
Stephen resumed his place on the bed, and Walter followed his example, but not to rest.
He had believed himself free from all pursuit while he remained in the forest; and during the past hour had been shown how vain was that idea.
The stillness of the night, the soothing sounds of the foliage, moved to and fro by the gentle wind, soon lulled him to sleep, despite his anxiety; and when he next opened his eyes the sun was shining directly upon him through the leaves; but neither Sewatis nor the prisoner could be seen.
Walter leaped to his feet, searched to and fro several moments in vain, and then found a trail leading eastward across the river.
Sewatis had returned to his own tribe, and with him had gone, however unwillingly, James Albert and the warrant for the young messenger's arrest.
Stephen was naturally surprised when, on being awakened, he was informed of the departure of Sewatis with the prisoner; but he did not regard it as a matter of any very great importance, save as it indicated that the disreputable half-breed would not probably be seen in Portsmouth again.
"Most likely Jim Albert did some wrong to the members of Sewatis's tribe, and that is why the old fellow hung around here, waiting for just such a chance as he finally got. I don't see why we should trouble our heads about it."
"I am sorry Sewatis has gone. In addition to being of great assistance to me, he was a companion, and now I shall be entirely alone."
"In that way it has worked you an injury," Stephen replied, carelessly; "but on the other hand, you need not fear the half-breed will hunt you down again in behalf of Sam Haines, which is more than a fair off-set."
Walter made no reply; a sensation of utter loneliness such as he never before experienced had come over him, and he would have been better pleased to know James Albert was seeking an opportunity to arrest him, providing that by such a change in the situation of affairs Sewatis had remained.
It was useless to give words to his troubles, however, and he did his best to appear contented, lest Stephen should carry to his mother the report that her son had lost courage.
Walter prepared the morning meal; Stephen did full justice to it, and then made ready to take his departure.
"I will come again within a week or ten days. What shall I bring?"
"Powder, if you can buy it for me on credit."
"I fancy Master McCleary will provide you with plenty."
"Say to my mother that I suffer for nothing save the opportunity to see her. She knows full well what other words I would speak if she were here."
With a hearty clasp of the hands the two friends I separated, Stephen to make his way through the forest ten miles or more, and Walter to resume the labour which might prove useless.
The would-be miller found it very difficult to continue at his task during that day. More than once he almost decided to remain idle until word should come that he was at liberty to return home; but then he remembered the goal he had set for himself, and laboured more industriously than before.
It was no longer possible, now he was alone, to move the larger logs, and all he could do was to hew them into shape, without an attempt to remove the timbers to the site of the mill.
The days passed slowly and wearily. The Sabbath seemed to have in it three times the usual number of hours. He indulged in hunting only when it became absolutely necessary he should have food, for the supply of powder bid fair to be exhausted before the time set for Stephen's return.
A week elapsed, and the young exile grew more cheerful. His friend must soon come. As for Sewatis, Walter did not believe he would ever see him again.
At the close of the eighth day, when the solitary supper had been cooked and eaten, more as one performs an important duty than something to be enjoyed, Walter was lying on the bed of boughs, dreaming of the time he could return home without fear of an unjust arrest, when a shadow came between his eyes and the fire.
Springing up in alarm, he seized the musket, which stood where it could be reached handily, and made ready to defend himself, for it seemed certain Sam Haines or one of his emissaries had come to carry him to jail.
Sewatis stood before him.
One would have said that the Indian had been absent but a few moments, and was wholly at a Joss to understand the look of surprise on the boy's face.
"I thought you were never coming back!" Walter cried, in a tone of most intense relief.
"Come to see mill," the Indian replied, as he seated himself and began to eat a deer-steak which had been left near the fire.
"I am beginning to fear you will never see one of mine," the boy said, despondently. "I have been foolish enough to think I could borrow as much as would be needed, while money is so scarce in this province."
"Build mill next day," Sewatis said, more indistinctly than usual, because his mouth was full of meat.
Walter understood the Indian to mean that he would continue the work on the morrow, and was not particularly interested in the proposed labour, for during the time he had been alone the possibility of ever getting a sufficient capital seemed an obstacle which could not be surmounted.
"What did you do with Jim Albert?"
"Big rascal! Jim gone Castine; never come back."
"Castine, eh? Well, you took him far enough away, at all events."
"Heap rascal fetch heap money," and Sewatis drew from beneath his blanket a bag which, on being opened, proved to be filled with gold pieces. "Hundred pound; more Jim worth alive."
It was some time before Walter could understand the Indian's meaning, and then the thought came that he had heard some one say the half-breed came to Portsmouth from the Penobscot River.
"Do you mean that there was a price set on Jim's head?" he asked, eagerly.
"Hundred pound," and Sewatis held up the bag once more. "Now build mill."
"But I have nothing to do with that," Walter cried, as the Indian pushed the money toward him.
"Build mill."
"But I surely can't do it with your money, you must understand that."
"Why?"
"Because it—you know I couldn't."
"Would from white man?"
"That is different. If Master McCleary or Master Leavitt would lend it to me, taking a mortgage to secure themselves—"
Sewatis pushed his bag toward Walter once more, and when the latter shook his head, as if to refuse the loan, or gift, which ever it might be called, the Indian rose to his feet, pulling his blanket more closely around him.
"What is the matter? Where are you going?"
Sewatis pointed toward the east, and moved slowly away.
"Come back!" Walter cried, entreatingly. "Come back and help me as you did before."
"Build mill?" and the Indian touched the bag of money with his foot.
"Do you mean that you won't stay unless I use that gold?"
Sewatis nodded.
"Suppose I did take it?"
The Indian seated himself as if to show he would remain.
It was fully an hour before Walter spoke again, and during that time he pondered over the matter in all its bearings. It seemed much like taking an undue advantage of Sewatis to use his money, and yet there could be no question but that he was pained when it was refused.
"I don't know why the fact of his being an Indian should prevent me from accepting the offer," the boy said to himself. "I would be perfectly willing to receive a loan from Master Leavitt, who has never shown half the friendship for me this red man has."
Sewatis watched him intently, and finally pushed the bag nearer.
"Yes, I will take it," Walter said, decidedly. "It is only to be loaned, and until I can pay it back you shall have half the profits of the business."
Sewatis nodded in approbation.
"And you are to stay here with me?"
"All time; now I call Injuns."
Walter was wholly at a loss to understand the meaning of this remark until Sewatis rose to his feet, uttering a cry that might well have been mistaken for a night-owl.
In response to it, half a dozen red men, each carrying a burden, came out from among the trees, and depositing their heavy loads in the lean-to, seated themselves before the fire in silence.
Sewatis motioned for Walter to look at that which had been brought, and while the latter wonderingly obeyed, he cut from the haunch of venison a sufficient number of steaks to serve as a hearty meal for the new-comers.
The boy's surprise may be imagined when he discovered that each of the packages was made up of furs, and he understood that the value of the whole lot greatly exceeded the amount of money in the bag.
"Big mill," Sewatis said, in a tone of satisfaction, and then he turned his attention to his followers, leaving Walter to speculate upon the good fortune which had come to him so unexpectedly.
The Indians remained in camp during that night, and at daybreak, after a breakfast of venison, all save Sewatis departed.
Never before had Walter worked as he did on the day succeeding the Indian's return. It was a perfect fever of industry, superinduced by the knowledge that there was now nothing to prevent the consummation of his desires save that which could be done by hands.
His companion appeared as before the coming of Jim Albert, with a single exception, and that was at the close of the fatiguing day's work, when he pointed to a slight elevation overlooking the site of the proposed mill, and said, quietly,—
"Sewatis build house there."
"So you shall, and between the two of us I reckon we can run the business as it should be."
Two days more the boy and his friend worked during every moment of daylight, and then came Stephen Kidder.
"Master McCleary is just behind me," he cried, before Walter could greet him.
"Master McCleary! Why has he come? Is there more danger for me?"
"You are free to go to Portsmouth this day. Samuel Haines has sailed for England, and there is little chance he will ever return."
Before Walter could realize the full bearing which Haines's departure would have upon his own affairs, Andrew McCleary came into view.
"It is a brave spot, my lad, and you have done well to choose it. Master Leavitt gives me great encouragement in regard to advancing the money, but stipulates that he shall be made a partner in the enterprise, you to pay him interest on the entire amount until your debt of one-half is discharged."
"I shall not need his money, for I already have a partner who neither demands interest nor a portion of the profits," Walter replied, laughingly; and then he told his now mystified friends of what Sewatis had done.
McCleary insisted upon taking the Indian by the hand as he praised him, but not a word, either good or bad, could he persuade Sewatis to speak.
The mill was built and opened for business four months after the repeal of the Stamp Act, and Sewatis insisted on pouring into the hopper the first bushel of corn brought to be ground.
This much regarding Walter Neal and his friends is known through the writings of others, and the next mention which is made of either person immediately connected with this story is found in Belknap's "History of New Hampshire" regarding the battle of Bunker Hill, where he writes concerning the three New Hampshire regiments which were mustered into the service of Congress:
"The two former were present in the memorable battle on the heights on Charlestown, being posted on the left wing, behind a fence, from which they sorely galled the British as they advanced to the attack, and cut them down by whole ranks at once. In their retreat they lost several men, and among others the brave Major Andrew McCleary, who was killed by a cannon shot after he had passed the Isthmus of Charlestown."
A letter now before the writer of this story, signed by Walter Neal and addressed to his mother at Portsmouth, tells of his service during the battle, while he was a member of the regiment to which Andrew McCleary was attached, and in it the miller says:
"Tell Sewatis that our noble friend is no more. He has given his life for his country, and when America takes her place among nations, McCleary's name will stand out bright as the sun."
THE END.