"Since yesterday!" he exclaimed. "But Grigg must be followed——"
The iron hand of Red Hugh pushed him back.
"Eat!" And the deep command forced him to obey. "You lack only strength, Norton, and that will come in a few days. Now, to relieve your anxiety, your friend Audubon told me all that had passed. We tried to trail Grigg, but the scoundrel had covered his tracks like an Indian and I feared to leave you alone here. So Audubon went back to Louisville to confer with Ayres, and for the present matters must be left as they are."
"Then you know my errand?"
"Yes. Audubon told me the whole affair. Now finish this broth."
Leaning back, Norton obeyed, in a mingling of disappointment and content. It was hard that Grigg should have escaped, yet this Red Hugh seemed a capable person to trust in. Norton could not but wonder at the man. According to Boone, Red Hugh had spent the past twenty years here on the border, yet his manners and speech were those of a cultivated gentleman—and Norton could not understand the incongruity of it.
The rich broth gave him new life. When the last drop was gone, Red Hugh proceeded to cram an ancient pipe with tobacco, sternly denying the luxury to his guest, and settled himself beside the couch.
"Shawnee moccasins! Shawnee moccasins!" he muttered slowly, then brought his keen eyes to Norton's face. "Audubon said you were from New Orleans?"
"Yes," returned the Louisianian, with curiosity again stirring in him. "You seemed to recognize those moccasins, sir—how shall I call you?"
"Call me by my name—Red Hugh," said the other gruffly. "That is all the name I have held these twenty years, and it is good enough to die under. As to those moccasins, sir, you seem to have entertained an angel and a devil unawares."
"Those two Indians?" demanded Norton eagerly. "Who were they, then?"
"He with one eye is called the Prophet," puffed Red Hugh slowly. "The bitterest-hearted devil unhung! The other, his brother, is the finest man on the border to-day, the one redskin I am proud to call friend. He has sat here where you now lie, telling me of his dream; he has built a town on the Wabash, not far from Vincennes, where he hopes to gather all the Indian tribes in peace, teaching them to lay aside the rifle and till the soil. Neither he nor his followers touch liquor—sir, God will punish our race for the evils we have brought upon these Indians! The man of whom I speak is a Shawnee, humbly born yet recognized as chieftain by a dozen tribes. His name is Tecumthe, or as the border makes it, Tecumsey."
The amazed Norton listened to this speech in blank astonishment. He had heard little of the two Indians in the South, and only on his Northern trip had he learned much of Tecumthe or his famous brother, the Prophet. Along the border they were hated bitterly, and that he had himself aided the two was no small surprise.
Even more amazing, however, was the way in which Red Hugh spoke. From Boone, Norton had understood that the man hunted Indians, as more than one frontiersman did, like wild animals.
"Tell me this," he asked, bewildered. "I thought you hated all redskins, Hugh? If that is true, what care you for the evil we have brought upon them, and why do you think so highly of Tecumthe?"
The other puffed in silence for a moment, his face set like stone.
"Look at that elk-hide yonder," he said, at length, gesturing with his pipe toward the stretched skin, his voice deeply stirred. "Norton, that skin bears record of a hundred and a score Indians I have slain. Twenty years ago a band of red devils murdered my whole family, my wife, my children, killed my dearest friend, left me for dead——"
He paused, and after a space continued, his voice firmer.
"I recovered, and having naught to live for save vengeance, I took vengeance. Every redskin I have slain has been a warrior under arms, and I have hunted them without pity or mercy, even as they have hunted me. This man Tecumthe is different. His heart is white, Norton. While the Prophet is stirring up war, Tecumthe is urging peace; he has a great vision of uplifting his race—but he cannot do it. His men are murdered along the frontier and he can get no justice. His lands are stolen, and Harrison will do nothing. If he loses the Wabash Valley, the Shawnees will be thrown back on the Sioux and Blackfeet, their mortal enemies. Well, let us get off this subject, Norton. You know who I am, and that is enough. We have to deal, not with Indians, but with men worse than Indians."
"Yes," said Norton bitterly. "This gang of river-pirates has murdered more men within the last year or two than have all all the Indians since Fallen Timbers. Too bad Grigg escaped you; we had the whole gang under our hand right there, could we have trapped him."
Red Hugh laid aside his pipe and fell to stroking his grizzled beard as they discussed what was to be done. Norton was dismayed to find that he would be unable to get around for several days, though Red Hugh promised him a complete cure from his fever and wounds.
Nor could he obtain the information for which he had hoped, from this strange character. Red Hugh, who seemed well educated and only a trifle "touched" on the subject of killing Indians, had a supreme contempt for the settlers along the river, in the main. He had been only once to Louisville, and had lived his solitary life as far as might be without concerning himself with settlements. He knew nothing of the Blacknose gang, though he stated bluntly that once he and Norton set themselves to hunt down the pirates, it would be a matter of short accomplishment.
So with that small ray of comfort, Norton went about his recovery, impatiently enough. When three days had passed, he felt nearly himself once more; but in that space of time he had discovered many things.
In the first place, he was forced to reverse his earlier impressions of Red Hugh. While he was ill, the man took a lively interest in caring for him; no sooner was Norton on his feet, than Red Hugh relapsed into a brooding morose individual who refused to talk about himself or his doings and only betrayed interest in Blacknose. Studying the man, Norton concluded that he had been a gentleman and a man of some consequence, but since the destruction of his family had devoted his whole life to revenge with a consequent loss of sanity on other topics.
He seemed to have absolutely no other business in life than killing Indians, for a living was easily gained by hunting. He had never troubled to take up land, and since there were no settlements in the vicinity, no one interfered with his squatting. All his vivacity and gentle care vanished as soon as Norton regained strength, and with this interest gone, he would sit and stare by the hour at his terrible elkskin.
This Norton also found of keen interest, for every "hunt" had been carefully set down as to date and result. When they took the field against Blacknose, he conjectured shrewdly that Red Hugh would re-awaken once more, for judging by the elk-skin he was possessed of considerable prowess in the man-hunt. He must have gone about his revenge with a terrible skill; more than once the painted record showed that parties of two and three Indians had fallen to his rifle.
John Norton was in no sense horrified, though not at all in sympathy with the old man. There were many like him along the border. The settlers conceived and treated the red men as beasts, which too often they were, and no man was ever brought to justice for killing an Indian. Red Hugh's grievances were purely personal, however, and more than once Norton recalled Boone's words—"God ain't softened his heart yet, though He will some day, I reckon." That day, it seemed to Norton, was very far distant.
Only once, after that first talk with the man, did he ever refer to his slain family. He had been examining Norton's moccasins, on the third evening, and suddenly he favoured the Louisianian with one of his searching looks.
"If you were up in the Shawnee country," he said abruptly, "these leathers would either get you killed or crowned, Norton! Any Indian across the Ohio would recognize them instantly. Well—well——"
He stared into the fireplace, puffing at his pipe. After a moment he continued slowly as if musing to himself:
"They were Wyandots, a big war-party of them, and their chief wore moccasins with split soles. They killed us all, women and children alike—and after I recovered I went straight into the Wyandot country. I found that chief, a year later, and shot him in the midst of his own village; old Simon Kenton was with me, and we had a hard fight before we got away. Well, I had my revenge, but it did not bring back the dead wife and the little ones—the little ones——"
Upon that he strode from the cabin suddenly, and Norton never referred to his own similar story, deeming it best to keep Red Hugh's mind as far as possible from Indian atrocities. The man seemed no more than sixty years old, and save for that one topic his brain was as vigorous as that of Norton himself.
By the fourth evening the Louisianian was nearly himself again. Red Hugh's knowledge of herbs had rid him of the fever almost at once, and strength came back to him surely and swiftly. Burning with anxiety to waste no time, yet conscious of the necessity of regaining his strength, he had forced himself to bide in the idleness of recuperation, but now he could do so no longer. There was work to be done, and he was bent upon keeping control of things—for his own career lay in the balance. He had not resigned his commission in mad haste, but after much deliberation; did he succeed in eliminating the Blacknose gang, New Orleans and the Government had promised great things.
More than this, however, he had Kitty Grigg in mind. Once the present affair was concluded he promised himself a trip to Cincinnati, where many of the original members of the famous Order had settled. It should not be difficult to make inquiries and perhaps gain a clue to the girl's real family, he thought. So, calling Red Hugh into a gloomy consideration of the problem immediately at hand, he announced his intention of beginning work next day.
"The first thing is to go to Blue River and get word from Elisha Ayres," he said thoughtfully. "I can't go back to Louisville unless that murder charge is cleared up, which should have been done by this time. If not, we'll have to go on a thorough scout of the river, because Grigg and his band of pirates are somewhere down-stream."
Red Hugh nodded.
"Where are you going to meet the messenger from Ayres?"
"At Dodd's Tavern—Kentucky side."
"H'm!" The other frowned. "I haven't been there for two years, Norton, but I don't recall any tavern or settler of that name at either of the Blue River settlements. However, your friend doubtless knew what he was talking about."
"He seemed to," said Norton drily. "Blue River is only about twelve miles from here——"
"I have a canoe down on the shore. Feel strong enough to paddle?"
"Quite. If we find no word from Ayres, we can go on below Henderson and spend a couple of weeks scouting through the woods. The gang must have some sort of a rendezvous, Hugh, and it certainly has a cache of the stolen goods, for Grigg has to be careful in disposing of them. Which side of the river would you search?"
Red Hugh stared at his elk-hide, tugging at his grizzled beard.
"Well," he returned slowly, his deep-set eyes flaming a little, "they'd be like to use either side, Norton. If we skirmished around on the Indiana side around the Wabash, we might strike one or two Indian parties——"
"None of that," broke in Norton, understanding that ominous flame in the man's eye. "We're after Blacknose, not after scalps. Just impress that on your mind and save further trouble. If you give me your help in this thing, there'll be no Indian hunting."
The big man turned his slow gaze to Norton's face, and for a moment the Louisianian expected trouble. Red Hugh stared at him; Norton met the look firmly, resolved not to compromise this matter, much as he needed the man's help and advice. At length Red Hugh nodded, reluctantly.
"I like you, Norton," he said, his grim visage softening strangely. "You're a man. You're like another Norton I once knew—well, best not to speak of that. Now as to hunting this Blacknose gang: we are more like to find them on the Indiana side. If aught went wrong with their plans, they could escape to the Indian country, or else lay the blame for their crimes on the Shawnees. There are several bands of Miamis along there, also. It may well be that through some Indians we can get trace of the gang, if naught else serves."
Upon this, they made ready to set forth at dawn. Norton discarded his own battered powderhorn for the fine red-streaked one which the assassin Tobin had formerly carried—an act which was destined to bring dire results upon himself before the game was played out. He forgot the fact that this red-streaked horn was distinguished by its very oddness and beauty.
With the dawn they set forth for the blazed cottonwood and the Ohio, carrying their rifles and a quarter of venison. Upon reaching the bluff over the river, Red Hugh turned abruptly aside and led Norton down to the wooded banks, where he presently fished out an Indian birch canoe and paddles from a clump of dense bushes. Two canoes were paddling upstream along the opposite shore, and when these were past, they put their craft in the water and started for Blue River.
The river hills ran close to the stream on each side, and except for the little group of cabins under the high rocky cliff opposite them the banks were unsettled as far as Blue River. Norton paddled easily, drinking in fresh strength with the sun-bright morning air, and could scarce realize their journey was nearly done when Red Hugh pointed to Blue River ahead. They had passed Indian Creek and two islands without sight of other river-craft, and now held in to the Kentucky shore.
"Colonel Boone's brother, Squire, began that settlement"—and Red Hugh pointed across to the clustering cabins opposite. "Now if you can see any signs of a tavern over here, you beat me."
In truth, Norton gazed at the Kentucky settlement which they were approaching, and his heart sank. Ayres must have made some mistake—yet the schoolmaster had been very explicit in his directions. The settlement consisted of two cabins, one of them fast falling to ruin; a few tobacco-drying sheds; a small section of cleared land; and a half-naked woman staring hard at them. Two or three entirely naked children appeared as they paddled in, and as the slatternly woman raised her voice, a still more slatternly man came slouching from the tobacco-sheds, rifle in hand. There was no sign of any road or ferry, and this was most certainly no tavern. Norton landed with some dismay.
"Is this the Kentucky Blue River settlement?" he inquired of the suspicious man—a loose-jawed, fever-smitten person who lacked all interest in life.
"I reckon they call it that, stranger. Who be ye?"
"We're looking for Dodd's Tavern," returned Norton quietly. "If you can tell——"
"Eh? Dodd's Tavern? Well, by gum!" The man stared at him, then turned to the woman behind him. "Go git that gal."
The woman went to the house. Red Hugh drew up his canoe and joined Norton, and together they waited for what was evidently to happen. The woman reappeared from the cabin, nodded, and fell to staring. A moment later Kitty Grigg emerged, and came forward with a glad, eager little cry at sight of Norton.
"Captain Norton! Oh, I'm so glad you've come—I had almost given you up!"
"You!" Norton grasped her hand, thunder-struck. "Why, girl—what does this mean? How came you here?"
"By boat," she laughed. "And I have news from Mr. Ayres."
Utterly astounded as he was at sight of Kathleen Grigg, and even more so by Ayres having chosen such a messenger, Norton drew her out of earshot of the curious settlers to the canoe, and introduced Red Hugh. The latter stared at the girl, then stretched forth a huge hand and touched the flame of her red-gold hair with trembling fingers, awe in his whole face.
"Kitty Grigg!" he muttered thickly, as the half-frightened girl shrank back to Norton's arm. "Kitty Grigg! Yet she has the face of my own Mary—oh, God in heaven!"
Abruptly, he turned his back upon them and stood leaning on his rifle, his shoulders shaking. Norton realized swiftly that the old man had found some resemblance in her to that wife whom he had lost in such tragic fashion, and in quick pity he gave the girl a warning look and hastened to change the current of Red Hugh's thoughts.
"But, Kitty—how on earth came Ayres to send you, of all people?" he cried in half-anger, half-wonder. "He knew there was danger in it——"
"Listen, please," she broke in, her hand on his arm and her eyes searching his face hungrily. "After you left me, that day, I saw Colonel Boone and told him what you had said. He knew nothing about the pin, but he said to trust you and—and I do. Then father went off on a month's hunt, so I was going to visit with Mistress Zach Taylor had not Mr. Ayres and Mr. Audubon come to see me——"
"Audubon? When was this?" queried Norton, frowning.
"Four days since—directly he returned after leaving you with him"—and she nodded toward Red Hugh, flushing slightly as she did so. "Mr. Audubon related all that had happened to you and him, but as he was going away with Mr. Ayres they were not sure whom to send here until they thought of me. You see, I would not be suspected or watched, and there was a skiff all ready to——"
"But—then you must know——" Norton broke off suddenly, staring into her level grey eyes, wondering if she had been told who Blacknose really was. She looked steadily at him, read his thought, and her face went pale.
"Yes," she nodded quietly. "Mr. Audubon told me all about it. I do not quite believe it can be possible, despite what you and Mr. Audubon heard. You see, sir, Mr. Duval has exerted some influence over my fa——"
"Over Abel Grigg, you mean," interrupted Norton gravely. He was all the more astonished that she had come on this mission, knowing what she did.
"Over—him," she went on, avoiding the issue. "But he's not bad at heart, really! And I came here partly to ask you to help him—I mean, if you find there is a gang of pirates, don't be too harsh with him until he is proven guilty——"
"I promise you that, sweet Kitty," smiled Norton. Then of a sudden the warmth died out of his brown eyes, and his face went hard. "Perhaps you were not told how he agreed to sell you to Duval, eh?"
"Yes," she almost whispered. "I—I—oh, I do not know what to think or say! But never mind that now, Mr. Norton; Mr. Ayres said that you were to return to Louisville at once——"
"You just said he and Audubon were going away?" broke in the puzzled Norton.
"They'll be back when you get there. Mr. Ayres has a plan about some boat, and has gone up-river to get some men he can trust. The riverman who was murdered had two brothers——"
"Hold on," laughed Norton. "How can I go back when everyone thinks I committed that murder? Straighten me out little by little, Kitty!"
"Nobody thinks you did it. Mr. Ayres found that the knife with which the man was murdered belonged to someone else, and also established the fact that you had been outside the tavern all the while. So that is all right. The owner of the knife escaped in a canoe."
"And I'll wager his name was Tobin," exclaimed Norton quickly. She looked at him, surprised.
"What—how did you know that?"
"Because I met Mr. Tobin myself." Norton smiled grimly and glanced at his powder-horn. "Well, that's a relief, Kitty! Now, how about getting back?"
"I came down in a skiff that was going to Henderson," she explained. "That was day before yesterday, and the skiff was to start back this morning and stop for me. Mr. Ayres knew there was no tavern here, but that was why he used the name, in case of suspicion."
"So—I am beginning to understand! This Mr. Ayres is a sly fox, eh?"
Norton whistled softly. In asking for Dodd's Tavern he had merely made use of a password which was known to the vacuous-eyed settler, and had thus precluded any possibility of mistake.
"Wait here, Kitty," he said, and crossed to Red Hugh. The latter swung about, showing his usual grim searching expression. "You heard it all, Hugh?"
"Yes." The big man nodded.
"Well, I fancy that Ayres is going to load up a boat and use it as a lure," went on Norton in a low voice. "It may well be Brookfield's horse-boat, of which we heard Duval and Grigg speaking, and which will leave Louisville in two or three weeks. Hold on!" And he turned to the watching girl again. "What did you say about Ayres going away to raise some men?"
"I'm not quite sure myself," she answered, "but I gathered that he was going for that purpose—he spoke about some men whose relatives had disappeared with the vanished boats——"
"That's it, then," said Norton quickly. "He'll get a few men he can rely upon implicitly and stow them aboard the boat. Then, when Blacknose attacks, he'll find what he hadn't bargained for, Hugh! Now will you come back to Louisville? That skiff ought to be along in an hour or two, if she left Henderson this morning——"
"No," broke in Red Hugh decisively. "You stay here and take Madam Grigg back, Norton. I'll scout through the woods for a bit, then will pick up your boat at Henderson when she comes down. You'll be aboard her?"
Norton assented with a nod.
"Good. If there's no sign of me at Henderson, I'll signal you from Diamond Island, just below—be sure and take the left-hand channel, for I'll be on the Kentucky side. Brookfield's boat, eh? All right—I'll watch out for you."
With a final look at Kitty Grigg, Red Hugh touched his cap and went to the canoe with Norton. The latter took out his rifle and equipment; then Red Hugh stepped into the craft and shoved off. A wave of the hand, and he paddled off upstream in the direction whence they had come that morning. Norton stood watching him out of sight, a most unwelcome feeling of loneliness stealing upon him; despite the man's glum silences and bloodthirsty pursuit, he had a strange fascination for Norton.
"Who is that man? Is he the—the Red Hugh of whom Mr. Audubon spoke?"
The Louisianian turned, and smiled into the girl's wondering grey eyes.
"I doubt if there be two of that name, Kitty! Aye, he's the man, and an odd one. Come—let's sit on the bank over here where we can watch the river. I trust your skiff will return as she promised, for a night in this place would be little to my liking."
"Oh, they're kindly folk enough, but terribly poor," she returned, as Norton led her down the bank under the shade of a clump of cottonwood. "And such wretched, happy, dirty little babies! I wish I could do something for them."
He watched her, fascinated by her fresh beauty, wondering anew how this pearl of womanhood came to be fixed in the squat cabin of Abel Grigg. For a space they sat in silence; she gazed out over the river, hands clasped in her lap, while Norton filled his pipe and smoked, feeling suddenly content with all things.
It was coming out all right, he felt, despite the failure to trail Grigg down and trap the whole gang. Of the relation between Grigg and the girl beside him, he never bothered, being perfectly convinced in his own mind that she was another man's daughter. He remembered the promise he had given her, but the deeper memory of that verbal bill of sale had impressed him with a hatred and contempt for both Grigg and Duval, which nothing would eradicate from his mind.
He recalled the vow he had taken upon that golden eagle, and perhaps the thought leaped to Kathleen's mind, for she turned with a sudden little laugh.
"Oh, I forgot! Have you still got that gold eagle pin?"
"Yes." Norton put his hand to his breast. "Why?"
He could not understand the half-smile that lay in her eyes as she looked at him. Knowing that he was puzzled, she laughed again.
"Haven't you looked at it since that day?"
"No—but I will now."
He reached inside his shirt and unfastened the pin. As the sunlight fell on it, he frowned slightly; the broken enamel on its face did not seem—suddenly he turned it over, and read the initials "H.E.M."
"By thunder!" he exclaimed, looking up at the laughing girl. "I handed you the wrong pin, eh? It was a mistake, Kathleen——"
She nodded. "Yes. I discovered it after you had gone, so when I came I brought this one of yours with me."
Norton looked at the pin she held out, recognizing it for his own. Yet he made no move to take it. Much as it meant to him, being his only memorial from the father he could not remember, he only looked at it and admired the slim beauty of the palm on which it lay. Hers was not the hand of a backwoods woman, he thought.
"Listen, Kitty," he said slowly. "Just as soon as I've cleared up this Blacknose affair here, I'm going to Cincinnati and find out who the owner of this pin of yours really was. A number of the Cincinnati are there or in the neighbourhood, and they will have records of the Order. Let me keep your eagle until then, and you keep mine as an earnest that I will return yours."
He found her face suddenly grave.
"I do not want to lose it," she said quietly. "It means a good deal to me, after what you have said——"
"Nor do I want to lose mine," he broke in, smiling. "Oh, you are not so easily rid of me, Kitty! I will find your true name for you, and that's a promise; until then, I will keep your eagle and do you keep mine in pledge of my return. Not that you need the pledge, since it would be a far harder matter to keep away from your eyes——"
"Fie, sir!" And she interrupted merrily enough. "And how many pledges have you left behind in Louisiana?"
"Two," returned Norton, so that for a moment her face became as serious as his own. "One to my friend, Davy Crockett, in shape of my finest rifle; and one to the traders who sent me hither, in shape of a promise that I would wipe out Blacknose. Tell me, Kitty, do you wish to marry Charles Duval?"
"Do you think I wish it?" And she inspected him with half-frightened eyes.
"Well"—Norton shifted his rifle uneasily,—"he is a person of note, is a gentleman of family—and is able to buy you with money."
"So much might be said for the Indian Tecumthe," she returned, flushing at the brutality of his last words. "No, I shall not marry him."
"Bravely said," nodded Norton, and felt tremendously relieved. Of course, he told himself, his only interest lay in saving this helpless girl from two scoundrels. "Well, even if Abel Grigg swears you're under age——"
"There's the skiff coming!" she cried quickly. "Just crossing over."
Norton glanced up. Perhaps a mile down the river and with her eight sweeps bringing her slowly across in a long slant for the Kentucky side, was a large boat. There was no hurry, he calculated, for she would require a good fifteen or twenty minutes to head over across the swift current of the Ohio——
"——then you take this horse and rejoin the boys. I'll get back in that boat."
The cold, commanding words rang out clearly from somewhere behind and above.
Norton stiffened; with one quick motion he unstopped his powderhorn and poured some black grains into the pan of his rifle, as it lay across his knees.
"The durned spy must ha' lit out," came the growl of Abel Grigg's voice. "Tobin ain't showed up, neither."
The Louisianian glanced swiftly at Kathleen. She was staring at him wide-eyed, her face ghastly in its sudden pallor. He knew that she must have realized instantly what had occurred—Duval, on his way home from Henderson, had met Grigg and intended to turn over his horse to the backwoodsman and catch this skiff back to Louisville. Cursing the mischance of fate which had led to such a happening, and thinking only of keeping the girl unseen, Norton leaned forward and whispered, with a gesture toward the trees:
"I'll back them into the woods. Get under those trees, and when the boat comes get aboard."
"No," she returned, with a shake of the head. "Why should I be afraid?"
Reading determination in her eyes, Norton cursed again, silently, and leaped up. Discovery was certain; his only chance now lay in holding up the two men and surprising some confession from them. With Audubon as sole witness, he could hardly hope to force Duval into court; but with Kathleen's testimony and that of the settlers, there was a bare chance. His rifle ready, he left the girl and sprang up the bank.
A curious scene greeted him, and one which showed that Elisha Ayres had not selected this settler's cabin by any vagary. The squalid woman and babies had vanished; the settler himself sat in the doorway of his shack with his rifle ostentatiously in hand; paying no heed to him, Duval and Grigg were standing near the landing, the latter holding the horse's bridle in one hand, his rifle in the other. Duval had a pair of pistols in his belt.
"Hands up, gentlemen!" commanded Norton sharply. "Drop that rifle, Blacknose!"
As Norton levelled his weapon, the settler in the doorway rose also, watching the other two. Duval, whirling with one terrible convulsion of his features, looked into Norton's rifle and forced the look from his face; Grigg obeyed the command with a snarl, his powerful, hook-nosed face grimacing in surprise and consternation.
"Why—sir! What is the meaning of this, Mr. Norton?"
Duval's expression of astonishment was an excellent counterfeit. His virile, dark, thin-lipped face showed only blank surprise, but this did not deceive Norton.
"You're a pretty pair of scoundrels!" he said grimly. "Your game's up, Duval, so no need to play innocent. Grigg, you're known for Blacknose. I think you'll both go to Louisville on that boat, but you'll go bound."
He saw Grigg's eyes widen and his jaw fall in astonishment, and needed not the step behind him to know that Kathleen had come up. Duval, however, maintained his cold poise.
"You are making a grievous mistake, Captain Norton," he returned, softly. "You must either be out of your senses or——"
"So?" chuckled Norton easily. "You remember how you and Blacknose there paused on your way to Henderson a few days ago, and held a conversation just before you parted company? There were witnesses to that conversation, my friend."
Grigg went livid, and his bushy grizzled beard quivered as he stared at Norton. Duval, however, showed no sign of emotion beyond a tightening of his lips; his dark eyes glittered ominously, and the cruel curve of his nostrils deepened. In that moment Norton knew that he had lost his play, and would get nothing out of this man. Grigg opened his mouth to speak, but Duval shut him up sharply.
"I said, sir, that you were mistaken," returned the lawyer coldly. "The tenor of that conversation must have been misunderstood by you. Madam Grigg, your servant."
He bowed slightly to the girl. With an inward groan, Norton lowered his rifle. If he brought the matter to an issue, he knew well that he would fail; neither Duval nor Grigg had mentioned Blacknose by name, and the conversation was incriminating only by inference. And inference counted for nothing in the Kentucky courts.
"Duval, I'm going to get you." And Norton suppressed the rage within him, his voice as cold and level as that of the lawyer. "You're the man behind this Blacknose gang, and Grigg there is Blacknose. I know that much, and I'm going to prove it some day."
"You will have far to travel before that day, sir," returned Duval with a thinly veiled sneer.
"Perhaps." And Norton smiled a little as their eyes clinched. "Not as far, however, as the road your friend Tobin has already travelled."
The shot told. Duval's eyes narrowed suddenly; then a hoarse cry broke from Grigg, who pointed at Norton's waist.
"Look thar! The cuss has got Tobin's horn——"
"What is that to us?" Duval whirled on him, with so terrible a face that Grigg fell back. "What is Tobin to us, you fool? Do you know him?"
"No," stammered Grigg, giving Norton a furious look. "No, I don't know him."
The Louisianian smiled in contempt. Duval had outguessed him shrewdly, and he would now get no evidence out of either man.
"Captain Norton"—Duval turned to him with a smooth smile—"I trust you perceive your mistake."
"Yes," returned Norton quietly, giving the man a hard look. "You're smarter than I thought, Duval. But you'll swing yet—mark that!"
The lawyer made no reply, beyond a cold sneer. A glance showed Norton that the settler's rifle had vanished, and knowing that Duval would not dare shoot him down with the approaching boat so near, he lowered his own rifle and stood leaning on it. Grigg, however, stepped forward with an oath.
"I got a word to say here," he cried savagely, glaring past Norton at the girl. "What you doin' here, Kitty? You and him was settin' under the bank makin' love, eh? What you doin' here?"
Norton turned with a helpless gesture. The girl did not heed him, but looked at Grigg, pale but calm.
"Be careful what you say"—and her voice trembled a little. "I came here with a message for Mr. Norton. Further than that, it is no business of yours."
"Hey! No business o' mine, ain't it?" shot out Grigg, his gaunt head flung forward until with his keen-hooked nose he looked uncommonly like the bird of prey that he was. "Looky here, gal, don't you talk to your o' dad like that! Now you're here, you'll come along o' me into the woods fer a spell——"
The girl drew herself up angrily.
"You're no father of mine, Abel Grigg," she cried out, and Norton could not but admire the proud spirit of her. "I know that now, and you've no authority over me!"
Grigg stood as though paralysed. Duval stared at the girl for a moment, then turned and whispered a few low words to his companion. Norton would have given much to know what they were, but their effect was evident.
With a complete change of manner, Grigg forced the anger from his face and spoke in a low wheedling voice which yet had a ring of sincerity in it.
"Looky here, Kitty! You ain't meanin' that——"
"I mean what I say," she flashed back at him. "I know you're not my father, and so does Captain Norton. That's enough."
Grigg flung Norton one malignant glance.
"Well, gal," he said slowly, "that's true. I ain't your dad."
"Who am I, then?" demanded Kathleen swiftly.
"I dunno." The backwoodsman shook his head, and Norton could not but believe he spoke the truth. "I found ye nigh on twenty year back, Kitty, in an Injun camp. Wyandots, they was, an' I bought ye fer a new horn o' powder an' a gun. That thar's God's truth, gal. They wouldn't say nothin' 'bout ye. Now I've told, gal, you won't go back on the ol' man? Come 'long into the woods a spell——"
"I think not," broke in Norton drily. "Grigg, we know all about how you want to sell Kitty to this skunk of a Duval. She'll have nothing more to do with you. That's flat."
"You've been an' set her up to this, hey?" snarled Grigg suddenly, turning on the Louisianian. "All right! I'll make ye pay afore I'm done with ye!"
Duval gave the angry man a look, and again Grigg flung off his rage swiftly.
"Kitty, won't ye go with me?" he said slowly, picking up his rifle.
"No."
Duval stood aside, watching, a shadowy sneer on his powerful features. A glance at the river showed Norton the skiff some three hundred yards away and slowly approaching the landing. Grigg, leaning on his rifle and clawing his grizzled beard, looked at the girl with a sudden sadness in his deep eyes.
"Kitty," he said very slowly, the harsh timbre of his voice accentuating his words and lending them sincerity, "I've brung ye up as best I could. When the ol' woman died ten year back, it was you helped to bury her. 'Member that? Ye allus called me Dad, didn't ye? I've done right by ye, gal, accordin' to my lights. Ain't I give ye the best I could? Ain't I paid ol' Elisha Ayres to give ye learnin'? You ain't lacked fer nothin', Kitty, even if I am poor."
Norton, listening, forbore to interfere. It occurred to him that Grigg was making a desperate fight for a valuable piece of property, yet there was truth in what the man said. And Kathleen knew it. Struggle sat in her face.
"Kitty, gal," went on Grigg with renewed earnestness, "I ain't askin' much of ye. I've allus give ye the best I had, ain't I? Now, looky here. Fur's anyone knows, you're my daughter an' I could force ye any ways I wanted to. But I don't. I love ye, gal, an' all I want is fer you to stick by me a bit longer. I'm gettin' old, Kitty, an' ain't as well able to take care o' myself as I used to be. If you're mixed up with that spy feller, Kitty, ye've done me a mighty bad turn, but I ain't carin' fer that. Now ain't you a-goin' to come along o' me, little gal? You ain't a-goin' to leave the ol' man, be ye?"
"What do you want of me?" Sorely shaken, the girl looked at him. "Why shouldn't I go back home, then?"
"Because I need ye, gal," returned Grigg earnestly. "I'd 'a' brung ye afore, only I didn't know as I'd need ye. They's a camp down-river a piece, where I aim to set out quite a spell, an' I want ye to cook an' take care o' things fer us. Kitty, don't go back on me after I done brung ye up all them years! Even if ye don't love me, don't ye reckon ye owe me somethin'? I've took good care on ye, gal——"
Terribly pale, the girl turned to Norton. He read the weariness of her eyes, and started to speak, but she stopped him:
"No—he's right, Mr. Norton. I owe him some duty, though it will never go so far as marrying that man." And she flashed Duval one contemptuous glance. "Good-bye, Mr. Norton—and God bless you!"
Norton bowed over her hand, bringing it to his lips. The touch thrilled him, and for a long moment he looked down into her grey eyes, not trusting himself to speak.
"Good-bye, for the present," he said huskily, his finely-chiselled face very tender, "And remember—I shall see you again."
With no more words she turned to Grigg, who helped her to the saddle of Duval's horse, and they started away. Norton gazed after them, feeling the girl's high character grip at his heart-strings; then he turned at a hail from the river landing.
"Hey, you fellers! Who's fer Louisville?"
"All right!" replied the Louisianian. He looked at Duval, and his eyes flamed out like a sword. "Duval," he said softly, "you're a yellow dog! You've tried murder and failed; now play your last card and do it soon, or you're gone!"
Immobile, his face set as though carven in stone, Duval gazed at him. Then his strong white teeth flashed out in a slow smile. "If you wish to make your last will and testament, Captain Norton, anyone in Louisville can direct you to my office. Sir, your servant!"
And with a bow he passed down to the waiting boat. Norton followed, smiling a little, his heart sore within him for Kitty Grigg.
"But, by gad, it's in the open now!" he thought. "Duval is smart, but his craft has sprung a leak—and the tide will swamp him whether I live or die!"
The trip to Louisville was uneventful, yet significant. As Norton went aboard the boat, the captain touched his arm and whispered.
"Captain Norton?"
"Yes?"
"The lady——"
"Does not return with us, sir."
The captain stepped back and signed to his men. Of these there were ten—all big, bearded men who kept silent for the whole trip, though Duval tried to converse with them more than once. Nor did any address Norton after he was aboard. Save for the captain's orders, the trip was made in silence.
When they were rowing past the bluff behind which Red Hugh dwelt, Norton searched the woods in vain for any sign of his friends, and caught Duval's eye roving over the bluff as well. Buck Creek and Salt River were passed without stoppage, and when Norton offered to pay his passage, he was informed that it has been paid; Duval, a little later, was taxed a dollar, which he paid promptly. At length Sullivan's ferry swept by and Shippingsport hove in sight ahead.
Norton knew nothing of what had been going on in his absence, but there were a large number of craft, both keel and flatboats, in the Louisville harbour, while loading of freight was proceeding busily.
The skiff rowed in through the vessels to a wharf, and Norton saw a small figure in scarlet breeches and fustian greatcoat waiting for their landing. He leaped out with a cry of joy, and greeted Elisha Ayres with a strong grip of the hand. The little schoolmaster straightened his greasy wig, and turned to meet Duval with a low bow.
"Your servant, Mr. Duval!" he said, in his dry precise manner.
The lawyer bowed slightly, fastened his cold gaze on the pinched, twinkling-eyed face of Ayres, and passed on without speaking. With a chuckle, Ayres passed his arm under Norton's and turned.
"Come, Mr. Norton. Do not talk, if you please."
In no little wonder, Norton accommodated his step to that of the other, and they walked through the little town toward Louisville. Ayres placed no ban of silence upon his own tongue, however; he chattered volubly, pointed out various objects of interest, and paused at the top of the hill to turn Norton toward the harbour.
"Just to our right, Mr. Norton, is the Berthoud rope-walk—one of the finest, I may say, in the United States. There is Mr. Berthoud's residence just beyond us. Now from here we get a truly remarkable view of the shipping; you will observe that a half-dozen keels are being laden for New Orleans, under command of Commodore Peters. The outside craft is the gunboat of Captain Nevitt, which carries a small cannon. To the left you will see Captain Brookfield's horse-boat—a most ingenious contrivance, sir."
At length Norton caught the drift of all this volubility, and gazed at the "horse-boat" with no little interest. It was a large craft of forty tons, with an ungainly gallery on the upper deck. On this, as Ayres pointed out, six or seven horses worked a treadmill which in turn worked the large side-paddles, over each gunwale. The boat was a decided novelty, and as Brookfield had broken a number of paddles on his trip up-river, she would be delayed from joining the fleet under Peters and Nevitt, which was leaving in two days.
When Norton had finished his inspection, Ayres turned him toward the city again and they proceeded on their way. Duval had disappeared. Mindful of the rapidity with which things had happened to him on his previous visit, Norton kept a watchful eye on the passers-by; he had an uneasy sense of being watched, and perceived that an unduly large proportion of the men were roughly dressed but excellently armed. It seemed to him that Duval must have filled the town with his own men, and things began to loom up darkly before him.
"These, sir, are the hanging gardens of Mr. Buttet"—and Ayres paused as they reached the lower end of town, speaking in his usual oratorical style and with a sweep of his hand toward the handsome brick house to their left. "From here we gain an excellent view of the river—one of the finest views in the United States, I may say, sir. Yonder you perceive Jeffersonville in Indiana; a little to the left, the magnificent falls of the Ohio. Beyond this, Clarksville and the Silver Creek hills, with the forests and Rock Island completing the panorama. And just ahead of us, sir, an interesting episode is about to be enacted, if I mistake not."
Norton, who was paying little heed to the view but much to what passed around him, loosened his knife in its sheath; the "interesting episode", he concluded swiftly, would be enacted by something better than fists. Lounging on the board walk a dozen yards ahead, and eyeing him with insolent and provocative glances, were two huge rivermen. Both were idly whittling at small sticks, and Norton had no doubt of their intent.
Fastening his eyes on the pair and already angered by their insolent looks, he flung off Ayres's restraining hand and stepped forward. Then, however, something very odd took place.
Swinging around the corner at which the two rivermen stood, came three tow-clad farmers with a snatch of drunken song. One of them lurched heavily against the nearer riverman, who shoved him away with a snarling curse.
"Who—who you shovin'?" demanded the farmer thickly.
"Git out, ye drunken fool," snapped the big riverman angrily, his eye was still on Norton. "Move on—we ain't got time to spend on ye."
"Whoop-ee!"—and the farmer gave vent to a wild howl of rage. "Hurray fer Jefferson! Damn the Democrats! Shove me, will ye? I'll learn ye! I'm a cross betwixt a streak of chain-lightning and a bear-cat! I was sired by a thunderbolt an' riz by an alligator an' I eats rattlers fer breakfast—whoop-ee!"
With which peroration he gave the riverman no chance for the usual exchange of personal history, but with an astonishingly accurate blow for a drunken man landed his right on the riverman's jaw. His two companions instantly fell upon the second riverman and with a whirlwind of blows and dust and flashing knives and yells, all five drove out into the street and left the sidewalk clear.
"Come, sir"—and Norton felt Ayres pluck his arm. "They will lodge the two men in jail, but we must not be detained as witnesses."
In a flash the real meaning of the scene broke upon the Louisianian, and with a grunt he strode off beside Ayres. Something most amazing must have happened in the city of Louisville, he thought. A week previously, mention of Blacknose had been enough to get a man his death; now, two members of the mysterious gang were openly assaulted in the streets! His last view of the combat, through the gathering crowd, showed one of the farmers perched on the body of a riverman and industriously gouging for the eyes of his enemy in true border fashion.
Five minutes later Norton found himself led toward a good-sized brick house which stood back from the street amid spacious gardens. This, announced Ayres, belonged to Mr. Tarascon, a prominent merchant, who expected Norton as his guest. Comprehending dimly that the schoolmaster must have moved with tremendous activity in his absence, the Louisianian strode up the steps to be greeted quietly by a small elderly Frenchman—no other than the owner of the place. He was unmarried, it appeared, and when Norton addressed him in his own tongue, he cried effusively that the house no longer belonged to him but to his honoured guest. Moreover, the words were quite sincere.
The afternoon being practically over, Tarascon and Ayres accompanied Norton to his room—a spacious bedroom on the ground floor, and there left him with a darkie to attend his personal wants, and a great variety of clothes to choose from. With a sigh of relief, Norton bathed and discarded his buckskin for a plum-coloured suit; he was a gentleman once more in place of a woods rover; and when he inspected the cravat which the grinning darkie had adjusted, he could scarce believe that at daybreak he had been sitting in a canoe with an acknowledged Indian-slayer, rifle in hand. The day was far from done, however. When he was dressed, the negro ted him through a dark corridor to two rooms blazing with candles: one a dining-room of gigantic size, the other an equally large music-room. Still blinking at the lights, Norton found his hand gripped by Audubon and then perceived that he had come into a gathering of men.
"Gentlemen, Captain John Norton!" announced Mr. Tarascon, and turned, smiling. "Perhaps you had best introduce our friends piecemeal, Mr. Audubon!"
A dozen men were present—Colonel Taylor, Rosier, Ayres, and others of the Louisville merchants to whom Audubon introduced the Louisianian. Colonel Boone had returned home to Missouri, while Norton found that his friend, Zach Taylor, had been ordered to Vincennes to join General Harrison; barely had he been made acquainted with all there, however, when Colonel Taylor rose and with a gesture obtained silence.
"Mr. Norton"—and it was easy to see that the old border fighter felt bitterly the shame of his words—"when you were here last, this town was in a peculiar state, sir. As you are only too well aware, the very name of Blacknose spread terror; men were murdered and property destroyed almost with impunity; the secrecy of this gang of river-pirates and its thorough organization seemed to hold us all spellbound. I acknowledge it with shame, sir. Then, with your coming, all this was changed."
As Colonel Dick paused, Norton felt himself the centre of attention. He was himself too interested in what was coming to heed this, however, and merely nodded.
"You had barely arrived, Mr. Norton, when an attempt was made upon your life; a few hours later you were accused of a dastardly murder and only the quick wit of Mr. Ayres threw the pursuers from your track. We had given you up for lost, sir, when Mr. Audubon returned to town and at once communicated with Mr. Ayres. The result, you see here."
"I fancy I have seen the results before this," smiled Norton drily, and told of the encounter he had witnessed in town. A quick nod passed around.
"We can trust every man here," declared Audubon quietly but impressively. "The grounds of this house are guarded by armed men, Norton——"
"But how do you knowtheycan all be trusted?" demanded the Louisianian keenly.
"Because, sir," spoke up Ayres, "Mr. Audubon and I enlisted them personally. We went up-river and carefully selected only those who had lost brothers or sons or fathers with the boats which have vanished down the river. Every man of us here has sustained heavy losses in property from the same cause. In short, sir, we have raised a company of Regulators, with which to exterminate this pestilent Blacknose gang."
Norton whistled to himself, eyeing the energetic little schoolmaster in some admiration as the whole thing broke over his mind. So then, they were fighting secrecy with secrecy, organization with organization!
Now he understood a good deal which had mystified him—the words of Kitty Grigg, the odd silence of his boatmen, the manner in which the two bellicose rivermen had been disposed of. Ayres had been swift and clever, also; by enlisting only the relatives of the men who had disappeared with their boats, during the past two years, all possibility of treachery was removed and the "Regulators" were certain to be animated by a live hatred of Duval—but did they know of Duval yet? Norton flung a quick glance around and found all waiting for him to speak. "How many here know who Blacknose is, Audubon?"
The words were like a shock; Norton needed no other answer to his question than the startled questioning look which ran over the faces in a flash.
"Only Ayres," returned the bird-lover, gravely. "It is a thing we cannot prove definitely, and it would be much better to destroy the whole gang at one blow. We will lay our suspicions before these friends of ours to-night, and take counsel."
While Audubon was speaking, a white-haired negro flung back the curtains which shut off the dining-room, and now announced dinner. Mr. Tarascon rose.
"Then—you have ascertained something definite, Mr. Norton?"
"Yes. I may say that we have ascertained everything."
In the startled silence all grouped themselves about the long table, Norton sitting between Tarascon and Ayres. Then, while the deft silent negro slaves waited upon them and the long dinner was discussed, Norton and Audubon related what they had overheard on the bluff near the blazed cottonwood, the Louisianian adding the conversation between Grigg and Duval that same morning.
Being wealthy and very hospitable in a land then noted for its inhospitality, Mr. Tarascon had provided his best wines for the occasion, both of French and Spanish. In consequence, certain honest merchants, who were more accustomed to home distilled corn liquor, drank wisely but too well of the rarer vintage; and no sooner had the two friends finished their tale than the table leaped into wild uproar.
For this, Norton was by no means sorry. The issue came squarely forward; Was it possible that Charles Duval could be in alliance with such a gang of thieves and pirates? To many of those present it was hard of credence; and one estimable old merchant, who wore a high black stock, a red peruke, and a coat cut in the fashion of the nineties, arose and pounded the table in vinuous indignation.
"Gentlemen, I refuse to believe this monstrous concoction!" he roared fervidly. "I have known Charles Duval for ten years, and I knew his father before him. Our friend and esteemed neighbour Henry Clay, now a member of Congress, knows him——"
"Yes, Clay knows him?" broke in a loud laugh from someone. "Clay knocked him down in front of the courthouse at Lexington last summer——"
"I refuse to believe it!" continued he of the black stock. "This charge is not proven, my friends. I will go and bring Charles Duval himself to deny it to your face——"
And shaking his fist, the angry old merchant shoved back his chair and started for the door. Norton would have sprung up to check him, but was restrained by Audubon's hand; the others glanced at one another in wondering fear, bewildered. Were the merchant to carry out his purpose, ruin was certain to fall upon them; yet Tarascon only sat at the head of the table and smiled as he sipped his wine. And, as the merchant flung open the door, it was seen to be guarded by a tall tow-clad man and barred by a rifle.
"Sir—Mr. Tarascon—what means this!" spluttered the merchant, turning.
"It means, sir, that my cellars are wide and my caution is wider," returned the host with only a veiled threat. He smiled very politely but his eyes were keen as he glanced at the men who lined the table.
"Gentlemen," he went on quietly, "you can readily understand that whether Mr. Norton and Mr. Audubon are correct or not in their suspicions, no word of what we are about must come to Mr. Duval. Each man of you here to-night is a gentleman; before you leave this house, you pass me your words to that effect. Else, you do not leave. It is very simple. We are going to stamp out this damnable river piracy, and I promise you that every justice shall be done Mr. Duval. Sir, pray return to your seat. Boy, fetch that Oporto I had from New Orleans last fall."
Norton, watching, perceived that he had fallen among men of weight. Tarascon was obeyed by the angry merchant, amid a grave silence, and Colonel Taylor was the first to pledge his word to secrecy. One by one the others followed suit, after which Elisha Ayres rose, pledged Norton's health in his grandiloquent manner, and fell to discussing the plan which he had already elaborated with Audubon.
This plan of action needed co-operation by the merchants there gathered, and it was based upon Norton's own idea. Brookfield's horse-boat was to be chartered and laden with a particularly valuable cargo, in which lading each of the merchants should risk an equal share. Brookfield himself was a man above suspicion, already enrolled in Ayres's "Regulators", and willing to risk his craft in the venture.
The boat would be another three weeks in lading, or perhaps less. Thus ample time would be given Blacknose in which to learn of its rich cargo and prepare an ambuscade. At Henderson the boat would secretly pick up twenty of the "Regulators", who would stow themselves below-decks in readiness for an attack.
Norton was to ship openly as a passenger, spreading abroad the report that his visit to Louisville had been barren of results, and in the meantime he was to remain as the guest of Tarascon in Louisville. Ayres drily assured him that he would be well guarded. With her rich cargo, the boat would be almost certain to be attacked; all that was necessary was for a prisoner or two to be made, in which case they would turn State's evidence and the rest of the gang could be hunted down readily enough.
"Once we ascertain definitely who Blacknose is," said Audubon, "we cut off the whole affair. Personally, I have no doubt of the matter; but to those of you who cannot believe Duval guilty, I would say—wait. This whole matter must be conducted with the greatest secrecy; let no hint of it get to your slaves, for the gang no doubt has many of our slaves in its pay."
"It's a good plan," stated Norton thoughtfully, frowning. "Almost too good, my friends. We must not overplay our hand—do not say too much about the rich cargo, for example. Duval, or Blacknose, is no fool! The thing seems all cut and dried, and that is why I fear—well, wait and see. When the time comes, we can show no mercy; that gang is pitiless, more savage than the redskins, and from the moment Brookfield's boat casts off her moorings at Shippingsport it becomes a war to the knife. Well, gentlemen"—and with a smile he rose, glass in hand—"for the rest of this evening let us cast care aside, and so allow me to propose a toast to the gentleman whose wig sets awry over a very excellent set of brains—Mr. Elisha Ayres, gentlemen!"
And the toast was drunk standing, while the little schoolmaster wriggled in huge delight and tried to straighten his greasy wig. None the less, Norton remained thoughtful that evening—for he could not forget the girl with gold-red hair whose hand had come to his lips that day, and whose gage he wore inside his shirt.
As Norton had thought, Mr. Elisha Ayres had formulated a plan which was almost too good. During the week following the meeting at Tarascon's house, he found that what appeared excellent by candlelight looked somewhat full of shreds and patches by the cold light of day.
The Regulators, to be sure, were unobtrusive but efficient, numbering twenty, and neither the Tarascon house nor Norton himself was ever unguarded. No more attempts were made upon Norton; yet the day after that dinner-party a brawl took place in the "Steuben Arms" in which one of the Regulators and a settler from down near the Wabash managed to kill each other. The settler seemed unknown in the town, which was a significant fact.
"Public sentiment is rising, sir," observed Audubon on hearing of it from Ayres, as they walked with Norton in the Tarascon gardens next day. "I would imagine that Duval is caught napping. Most of his men are down-river with Grigg, beyond a doubt, and while he must be perfectly aware of something going on, he is helpless. Further, he is engaged in court at Lexington."
During that idle week Norton might have gone to Cincinnati had not Brookfield been expecting to get away soon. The lading of his boat and the repair of her paddles had gone forward faster than had been looked for, and now the rivermen hoped in all confidence to be off before the following week was up. His crew consisted of six men only, and he could trust but two of them.
"Set the departure for next Saturday, then," commanded Norton, as he and Ayres and Audubon consulted with Brookfield on the Monday. "Give our friend Duval time to make his preparations, for we must make sure of all. On Friday send the Regulators down the river on horseback so that they can pass Henderson before daybreak and pick us up near Diamond Island."
On the table was a chart of the Ohio, and Audubon broke in, placing his finger on the Wabash settlement.
"You mind the settler who was slain last week? He came from this settlement, and must have been one of Duval's men. There is a clue for us; besides, Grigg and Duval agreed to waylay the boat near the Wabash."
The others nodded soberly.
"Mr. Norton's idea is very good," said Ayres. "Captain Brookfield, set your departure for the Saturday morning. It is only a hundred miles to Henderson by trail, and we will send out the Regulators Friday; they will pick you up here at Diamond Island, twelve miles below Henderson, on the Kentucky shore beyond the plantation of Mr. Alvis."
To this Brookfield agreed. He would reach the island some time on Sunday, and the Regulators would thus have plenty of time to make the journey by land, avoiding Henderson itself. So, with all plans fully settled, there was naught to do save to wait and watch.
Captain Brookfield announced his departure and rushed his lading, and with that the situation began to tighten up, Duval, having been engaged in court at Ledington for two days, returned to town on Wednesday; and Norton saw that with his return the lawyer had taken swift warning of some sort.
The plot was known to a dozen citizens at most, and the little border town remained as quiet and sleepy as ever; but beneath the surface there was a furious boiling of the pot. Since the double killing at the "Steuben Arms," the Regulators had been forbidden the tavern. Now, however, Duval openly made the place his headquarters. He had a plantation a few miles up-river, it seemed, but stopped at the tavern when in town. And on the Wednesday, Norton found the trap ready laid for his bait.
He had been riding below the falls with Audubon, and on their return they rode past the "Steuben Arms". As they jogged along, Norton saw a negro step into the tavern courtyard and loose a bird from a small wicker cage. At the action, he caught his friend's arms swiftly.
"That bird—watch it! What is it?"
Audubon whistled, and watched the bird as it circled up to pick its course, and finally shot off to the westward. He took out his pocket-compass, inspected it, then quietly beckoned Norton to ride on.
"Southwest by west and a half west," he returned, a flush of excitement on his high cheeks. "A carrier pigeon for the Wabash, Norton! Now ends all mystery, and the stage-players can no more fool the audience."
"By gad!" breathed Norton softly, his brown eyes flaming out at Audubon. "He uses carrier pigeons, eh? Then Duval must be concocting his plan against the horse-boat with Grigg and the gang—and if we could but bring down one of those pigeons we could nip him like a flea!"
"Good," nodded the other. "Let us come out to-morrow morning, with that little double-barrelled gun of mine. The birds will not fly too high, I think."
So it came about that Norton went back to his woods garments with the next morning. Tarascon's slaves had greased his old buckskins, so that the stiffness was gone from them and Norton donned them and his fine moccasins with a feeling of joy. At breakfast he confided to Tarascon what his mission was.
"If we bring down a bird and find a message," he concluded, "we had best jail Duval at once."
The other nodded quietly, his dark eyes sparkling.
"One of my slaves informed me this morning," he returned, "that Duval was preparing for a journey—though I had said nothing to any of my slaves. But trust the darkies to know what's afoot!"
"It's a poor sword that has not two edges," said Norton, frowning.
"Certainly—that is just what we risk, Mr. Norton," and Tarascon departed gloomily to his business.
Norton rode out, met Audubon and Ayres, and the three wended west of town with rifles ready. All that day their watching proved vain, however, for no pigeon passed overhead save for a flock of wild birds. This was on the Thursday, and the horse-boat was to sail on the Saturday.
With the next morning all three were out again, and still came no result. The Regulators left Louisville that morning—twenty of them, all mounted and armed, with instructions to meet the boat at Diamond Island, twelve miles below Henderson. All day the three friends watched from the riverside, but no pigeon appeared, and with the evening Norton gave up all hope of thus cornering Duval.
Ayres and Audubon returned to the Tarascon house for dinner. During the meal, their host was summoned outside and returned, leading a badly-frightened slave.
"News, my friends!" cried Tarascon eagerly. "This boy is one of the hostlers at the "Steuben Arms", and I have paid him to keep an eye on Duval——"
"It's a poor sword that hasn't two edges," broke in Norton glumly.
"Confound it, cease your croaking!" exclaimed Audubon gaily. "Out with the news, Tarascon! Don't heed him."
Tarascon smiled and settled into his seat, white the negro waited, rolling his eyes in fright until the merchant tossed him a dollar.
"Now, boy, you say Mr. Duval is leaving to-morrow?"
"Yas, suh. He done got three hosses waitin' foh him."
"Making ready for a quick trip, eh?" said Ayres. The merchant nodded.
"Have you overheard anything about his plans, boy?"
"Yas, suh. Ah done heard him talkin' wif a man. He reckoned they was gwine to beat Cap'n Brookfield's boat to Henderson, suh."
"Two of them, eh? Anything more?"
"No, suh."
Upon this, Tarascon dismissed the slave, and the four friends discussed the news. They finally reached the conclusion that Duval intended to meet the pirates and take part in the attack on the horse-boat, after which he would doubtless flee the country, as he must know that there was something afoot.
"So much the better," cried Audubon gaily. "Success to the Regulators!"
"All very well," retorted Norton. "But I don't like this slave business. What we can do, Duval can do."
His forebodings were drowned in Oporto, however. Next morning the four again gathered at breakfast, after which all mounted and rode through town toward Shippingsport to see Norton off. It was early, and few people were astir, for Brookfield was making a swift trip to Henderson and wanted to make the most of the day. As they passed the "Steuben Arms," Norton sent a casual glance at the place; then he reined in suddenly.
His quick eye had caught sight of a negro just emerging on the courtyard, a wicker cage in his hand. With a sudden thrill of excitement, he spurred from the road and clattered down on the startled slave. The cage held a pigeon.
"Give me that bird, boy," he said, leaning over.
"Dishyer bird b' longs to Mr. Duval, suh"—and the darkie drew back. The other three had followed Norton, however, and hemmed in the slave so that his escape to the doorway behind was cut off.
"Watch him, Audubon!" cried Norton.
Without further parley he leaned down and grasped the cage from the shrinking negro. Opening it eagerly, he found a tiny slip of paper under the bird's wing, and carefully loosened it.
A glance around showed him three saddled horses to one side, and he knew they had been just in time. Then, unfolding the paper, he read the message written thereon. It was unsigned.
A.G.—Meet me as planned. B's boat leaves to-day. Have arranged all satisfactorily. Norton goes with boat.
Silently he passed the note to Ayres, and the others crowded together over it, while the negro watched in affright. Ayres looked up.
"It is Duval's hand," he said, his voice quivering with excitement. "What's to be done?"
"Seize him," said Norton curtly. "Mr. Tarascon, will you go on to the port and tell Brookfield that I will meet him at Diamond Island instead of going with him from here? Ayres, there is no court in session now?"