Fred Godfrey and Jake Golcher at last stood face to face, and by the light of the camp-fire looked steadily in the eyes of each other.
"I'm here," said the lieutenant, in his ordinary voice, though he carefully measured his words: "Habakkuk McEwen has kept his pledge, and now I'd like to know what you are going to do about it."
"You would like to know, eh? Wal, I can soon tell you. I'm going to turn you over to these Senecas you see around you; one of them is throwing wood on the fire now; that's for you. More than one rebel has been roasted, and you are none too good to be served the same way."
"So you intend to burn me to death, Jacob, do you?"
"Intend to! I'm going to do so, sartin sure—that is, I'm going to boss the job, but I've promised to let the redskins have the fun of the thing."
"That's the idea, is it? And after I'm disposed of, what then? That is, what is to be done with my friends there?"
"I've no 'bjection to saying," replied the Tory, speaking loud enough for all to hear, "that the old fellow there and that she panther, Aunt Peggy, will be served the same way. The two girls will be taken back to York State with us, and sort of adopted by the Senecas."
All the individuals referred to heard these words, but no one moved or stirred. It may truthfully be said that they were so overcome for the moment that they were speechless.
"That's an imposing programme, Jacob, but, somehow or other, I think there will be a hitch in carrying it out."
"You think so, eh? Wal, you'll see mighty soon that there ain't no mistake about it. The fire is burning and about ready—"