“Well,” laughed McCabe, “my deeds shall be proof of my fidelity. But where will you remain till the time for action?”
“Here,” replied Girty. “I shall not leave this spot before sundown.”
“Very well; you know best how to act in a case like this. I will leave you now, and as like as not I won’t see you again until after the fight has taken place.”
“Why? I want you to come back here toward evening, and report your success, or failure, in your part of the performance.”
“All right; I will do that, if you wish.”
“And, also,” continued the renegade, “I hope to find you somewhere near the boats when we go to the river to embark, so that you can take part in the fight. You will make an addition of one, you know, to our side, and I have no doubt we will need your services. Of course you will be there, ready to accompany us!”
“Ye-e-es, I suppose so,” was the hesitating answer. “But if I am not there you need not wait for me, as you will readily understand that I am on duty at some other point. At all events, I shall not be absent when it comes to fighting.”
So saying, Jim McCabe turned on his heel and walked away, while Simon Girty joined his warriors by the fire.
Nick Robbins, as soon as he saw that the conference was at an end, slid off the rock, sprung lightly to his feet, and glided swiftly away from the spot. Stopping suddenly, however, he quickly jumped behind a tree, and then he looked cautiously forth from his concealment to watch the movements of the man whose villainous plot he had overhead. He saw Jim McCabe come out of the ravine, and walk leisurely off in the direction of the river, and observed the smile of evil triumph that lighted his countenance as he went.