There was enough food left to furnish him another good meal, and he did not stop using his peerless teeth and massive jaws until he had secured it.
His rifle was leaning against the wall near the door, where he had left it. He took it in hand, with the intention of opening the door and passing out, when the first real thrill of alarm stirred him. He heard some one attempting to open the door.
He knew it was an enemy, for Kenton, the only friend he had in the neighborhood, would never come there to look for him.
The latch-string being drawn in, it was impossible for the door to be opened, except by great labor from the outside. Nevertheless, some one was pushing at it repeatedly, and with such vigor that there could be no mistake about it.
"Who dar?" demanded Jethro, in his deepest voice, holding his rifle ready to use it in case the Indian effected an entrance.
There was no answer, but the efforts on the outside ceased for a minute, to be resumed more guardedly than at first.
"Go way from der, I toles yo' or yo'll get into trouble," called the youth, in a louder voice, meant to be as threatening as he could make it.
Again the pushing ceased, and all became still.
Jethro heard the wind blowing strongly around the cabin and among the trees beyond. Standing in the open clearing, as did the cabin, no shadow was cast upon it. The narrow windows, therefore, were clearly outlined against the dim moonlight. The youth glanced furtively at them, comprehending more fully than at any time before the sad mistake he had made in disobeying the orders of Kenton. But for that he would not have been in his present plight.
But it was too late for regrets to avail him. All he could do was to fight it out as best he knew how to the end.