"I'd just got that Shawnee sure when you picked him off. Don't you serve me that trick again."
With this ebullition, Tom subsided, and turned his attention once more toward their common enemy.
The shot of Dick really decided the affray. It convinced the Indians that not only were they unable to shoot the girl or avenge themselves upon the Riflemen, but the latter had so much the advantage of them, that to prolong the contest would only be to insure their own annihilation. Three of their number were already slain, and the remaining four, from their respective positions, had not the shadow of a chance to pick off any of the whites. What might naturally be expected under the circumstances occurred. The savages commenced a retreat, conducting it with such caution that the whites could not gain another shot. The last seen of them was a shadowy glimpse in a distant part of the wood, as the four fled, thereby doing only what the Riflemen of the Miami had before compelled many a body of Indians to do.
A few minutes later, Lewis rose up and said:
"This way, gal; there's none of the imps left."
The girl, timidly raising her head, glanced about her, and then, Lewis' invitation being repeated, she arose and walked toward him, looking furtively backward as though still fearful of her late captors.
"Bless your dear soul," said Lewis, warmly welcoming her, "you've had a skeery time with them Shawnees, but you're safe for the present. You may set that down as a question that needn't be argued."
"Oh! how can I thank you for rescuing me! I can never, never repay you," said she, with streaming eyes.
"Who the deuce wants you to pay us?" asked Tom, gruffly.
"Come, come, Tom, see whether you can't be civil once, even if you've got to be sick for it. Don't mind him, little gal; he loves you all the more for what he said."