“You vill know zat in ze morning,” answered Jean Bevoir. “You shall ride a horse.”
Then Bevoir entered another wigwam. Soon he came forth, dragging another man by the arm.
“Don’t!” gasped the man, feebly. “Don’t! I—I cannot stand it! Have a little mercy, Bevoir, I—I beg of you!” And the man fell in a heap.
“Git up!” roared Jean Bevoir, savagely. “You shall come with me. Dead or alive, I shall take you avay!”
“See! see!” shrieked Dave, forgetting himself completely. “See, it is my father! Jean Bevoir, let him alone, or I’ll shoot you on the spot!”
CHAPTER XXXI
DAYS OF PEACE—CONCLUSION
It was indeed James Morris who lay on the ground at Jean Bevoir’s feet.
The trader had not been killed, only seriously wounded, and for days had lain between life and death, in the care of an old Indian medicine man. Many a time the French trader had thought to slay him, but had hesitated, thinking he might some day make use of his prisoner.
James Morris was still so weak that he could do nothing for himself, yet Jean Bevoir wanted him to mount a horse and ride away, to a cave up the river, where, in years gone by, the French trader and his trappers had had a regular rendezvous.
It made Dave’s blood boil to see his father so abused, and forgetful of everything else, he ran forward, leveling his rifle at Bevoir’s head as he did so.