“Who can this lover be?” he mused, as he walked slowly down the street. “Can it be this young stranger who saved her from the bear in the ravine? It may be. I am sure that there isn’t a lad on the border that is favored by her, for I have watched her closely. Is the prize then that I have toiled so to gain to be snatched from my hand by this adventurer? She must marry me, or—she must die! She is the only obstacle between me and the fortune of the old General. That fortune I am determined to have, and the silly caprice of a weak girl shall not keep me from it.”
Stern and frowning was the brow of Clement Murdock as he strode along. Dark and gloomy thoughts were passing rapidly through his mind.
“The die is cast—I have decided,” he muttered, as he walked onward. “First to find who this lover is, that has crossed my path—for that the girl has a lover or is in love with some one, I am certain. I marked the slight flush that crimsoned her cheek when I charged her with loving another; that blush revealed to me the truth. I have a rival, and a dangerous one, for she loves him. I must discover who it is. If the young adventurer is the man, let him look to himself, for the fortune that he comes to seek by the banks of the Ohio, may resolve itself into a grave in the forest with the gaunt gray wolves as mourners. True, the acquaintanceship is but a few hours old, but love comes at first sight, sometimes. The fortune of my relative shall be mine, either with Virginia or without her. I must find some willing tools to aid me, for I feel a presentiment that I shall have need of strong arms and reckless hearts, ere long.”
Then the eyes of Murdock caught sight of a little group of settlers at the lower end of the station near the bank of the Kanawha.
“Hallo! what’s the meaning of that I wonder?” he exclaimed; “there’s evidently some trouble afloat. Another Indian attack, perhaps. I must see what it is.” And he advanced to the group.
CHAPTER VI.
ANOTHER VICTIM.
As Murdock approached the group, he saw that Colonel Boone and a strange hunter were in the center of the party.
Another strange face also met the eye of the new-comer. It was that of a man attired in the homespun dress of the emigrant. His hair was jet-black, and his skin tanned almost as dark as the hue of a red-skin. He stood on the outer edge of the group, leaning on a long rifle. The keen, dark eyes of this stranger had a restless look, and wandered continually about him.
Murdock felt sure, the moment he beheld the face of the stranger that he had seen him before somewhere, but, for the life of him, he could not guess when or where. Slowly he drew nigh, keeping a wary eye upon the hunter-emigrant.