The shooting had taken place in a clearing behind Fort Pitt. The party was about to return to the fort, when a sudden shouting was heard.
“What is the matter?” asked Captain Ecuyer, quickly.
“Somebody is coming down the trail!”
“A messenger! A messenger!” was the cry.
“It is Peaceful Jones!”
The report proved true; it was indeed Peaceful Jones who was coming along the trail leading from the west. He walked slowly, as if very tired or full of pain.
“Let’s go to meet him!” cried Dave, and ran forward, followed by Henry and half a dozen others. It did not take them long to reach the trapper, who, as soon as he saw them, stopped short and clutched a tree for support.
“What is it, Jones?” asked Henry, and then started, as did Dave, for they saw the man was very thin, as if he had suffered from a long illness.
“Thank Heaven I—I am ba—back at last!” gasped Peaceful Jones. “I th—thought I’d never ma—make it!”
“You are sick—you have been hurt!” burst out Dave, and helped to support him.