“Rather ’arly, ain’t you?” remarked Wetzel.
“Yes; we will wait here a while before we start. Lew, do you suppose it is the Shawnees who have carried her off, or some other tribe?”
“I guess it’s the Shawnees. They’re generally in all kinds of deviltry, and that Pete Johnson, I believe, figures among them.”
“He is as often in the other tribes, so that you can hardly tell anything by that. She’s in desperate hands, I can tell you,” added Moffat, in a lower tone.
“I know that, and you have a hard job before you, Abe.”
“Umph!” remarked the captain; “If you can only rid the country of that Pete Johnson, you will be immortalized. Do it, and I’ll never kick you again—I won’t, upon my honor.”
“Then I think I will do it,” laughed the ranger.
“Isn’t it time to be moving?” asked Kingman, anxiously.
“Yes; it’s getting light, and we might as well start.”
“George,” said Stuart, as he took our hero’s hand, and the tears streamed down his face, “be careful, and do your utmost, for you know what there is at stake. She is yours forever if you can save her. God grant it.”