“He may have done so,” the officer retorted.
“Then where is he? Why don’t he appear?” demanded Master Le Geyt.
“Because he is dead, injured, or captured,” replied the colonel calmly. “Finding he could not deliver it himself, he gave it to the wounded chief, who crawled miles, sacrificed his life, in fact, that he might place it in my hands.”
“A pretty theory, but one no sane man would accept,” the Tory cried angrily.
“What is your belief?” asked Colonel St. Leger, growing cool as his companion grew angry.
“That the white man who helped the redskin into his camp hid the letter on the dead body, a much more sensible view than your own,” sneered the Tory.
“We shall soon know who is right. It cannot be long now before the fellow is here.”
They waited an hour, and then an orderly was sent to the encampment to learn the reason for the long delay. He returned with the word that the white stranger could not be found, and that the Indians were rapidly deserting.
During the entire day efforts were made to hold the Indians; but with only partial success. After nightfall the red-men departed in such numbers that barely an hundred were left at dawn. Then came the Tory with his startling news that General Schuyler’s entire army was close at hand, and Colonel St. Leger gave orders to abandon the siege.
In vain Hiram Le Geyt and David Daggett, who had now returned, argued.