“But the Indian sentry before the door of the wigwam?” and, with her eyes, Kate indicated the brawny warrior, who, seated before the lodge-door, was smoking a rude pipe, fashioned from a corn-stalk, with great satisfaction.
“Oh, I kin fix him easy ’nough,” replied Kendrick.
“Then I will make the attempt at once,” said Kate, decidedly.
“I’ll fix the Injun. You go into the lodge. I’ll talk to the chief and get him to leave his post for a moment. When he’s gone, I’ll cough; then, you slip out of the lodge with the gal and take to the timber. It ain’t likely that they will be apt to discover that the gal is gone till morning.”
“And by that time it will make very little difference whether it is discovered or not,” said Kate, meaningly.
“Are you going to kill the gal?” asked Kendrick, speaking as coolly and as unconcerned as though it was the killing of some worthless beast that he referred to.
“Why should I let her live?” asked Kate, fiercely. “Is she not loved by the man whom I love better than I do any one else in this world?”
“But if you leave her hyer with Girty—”
“May she not escape from him?”
“That’s true; but dead—”