“If they discover us they will surely kill us, father,” whispered Dave, in return. “They can easily track us through the snow. Even as it is, they may come across our tracks and follow us up.”
“I know it, Dave—and I shall do nothing now.”
The enemy were soon on their way, following what was a trail leading to the far west. James Morris saw them depart with a darker look than ever on his face.
“The rascals! The infamous scoundrels!” he cried, when he dared to speak in louder tones.
“What did you learn, father?” asked the son.
“A great deal, Dave. Do you know what Jean Bevoir intends to do?”
“I haven’t the least idea.”
“He and his followers, including that Benoit Vascal, are going to join forces with a large body of Indians. They are going to induce other Frenchmen to do likewise, if they can. The Indians are to aid the Frenchmen in an attack on every trading post for miles around, and whenever successful French and Indians are to divide the plunder.”
“Well, they have done just as bad things before.”
“That is not all. If the other Indians are finally subdued Jean Bevoir is to take charge of my old trading post, producing a paper to the effect that I once signed over all my rights to the place to him. To this document the other Frenchmen will affix their names as witnesses.”