"On this burnt-over spot!" ejaculated Jean Bevoir. "No, thank you! I shall go where I expected to go—to the Ohio."
"Rather late in the year to put up a post now," suggested Dave, who could not help saying something.
At this speech Jean Bevoir smiled knowingly.
"Trust me that I know what I am doing," he said. "Come," he added, to his companions, in French. "We can gain nothing by remaining here longer."
He turned his steed around, and rode off, and Valette and Bergerac did the same. Soon the brushwood and forest hid them from view.
"Well, I never!" burst out Dave. "Who would have thought it?"
"It seems we are not clear of that rascal after all," said James Morris bitterly. "Not only is he alive, but he is coming out to his old hunting ground to bother us."
"Do you think he will set up a post near us, father?"
"He did that when I located here. He seems to take savage delight in crowding on my heels."
"That Valette is about as bad a rascal as Bevoir."