"There is but one thing that seriously troubles me," remarked Abbot, gravely, "and that is the thought of that McGable. He has now been absent a year, and you remember, Marian, that he threatened vengeance against you when he left."
"Why, father, how can he injure me?" asked Marian in surprise; "who knows where he has gone?"
"I have been told that he was in the West," answered Abbot, quietly.
"Well, and what of that? I am sure there is nothing in that, that need frighten us."
"I have heard a darker story of him," added the father in a lower tone, and glancing around as if he feared other ears might hear him.
"What was it?" asked Marian breathlessly.
"I have been told by those whose word could not be doubted, that he has turned renegade, and that his atrocities are equal to those of Girty, McGee, Proctor, and the other similar fiends."
"Where does he generally commit his outrages?" asked Mansfield.
"I do not wish to alarm you, Marian, and I think there is no reason for your being alarmed; but, as all the others who will accompany you, know the same thing, there can be no harm in warning you. At first, when he joined the British and Indians, he united with the parties who attacked the defenseless settlements and travelers; but he is cowardly, and there was too much danger in that. He is now a decoy along the Ohio river, and uses all the means in his power to entice the passing flat-boats to shore. The devil himself seems to aid his invention, for he has contrived such ingenious schemes that it is said he has outwitted some of the old backwoodsmen and hunters themselves."
"What does he do with his prisoners?"