“Quick! Did Washington send you?” hissed Captain Strobo.
“No. We came to help.”
“Good! Wait. See me later in fort. Be careful.”
Then they were separated. Strobo and Vanbraam were taken on into the fort; the Buck and Robert were lodged outside, where the Indians celebrated.
Whether they two could have slipped away, no one might say. The Buck was for trying, this very night; but when Robert told him of Strobo, he said:
“Wah! We will wait. I am your brother; we two are one.”
They knew that they were watched to see if they would try to escape. And they were well treated, for the French very much wished to win the Mingos over. A few Mingos were here, from up-river; a few Delawares from the west; but the main horde were Ottawas, Hurons, Potawatomis, and Ojibwas from the far north. The other Delawares and Shawnees were waiting to see what the English would do now.
After a couple of weeks the watchfulness lessened. Scouts reported that no English were coming. The fort gates stayed open. The Buck and the Hunter were even permitted to wander in and look about. Vanbraam and Captain Strobo appeared to be well treated also. They were not under guard; they walked and sat with the French officers; it was true that they were being held only until the Governor of Virginia sent back the prisoners taken by Washington when Jumonville was killed.
Vanbraam drank freely—a jolly man, he, and foolish. But Strobo was smart. He pretended to be happy, and yet his eyes were always darting about, and his mind was busy. Then, one morning as he passed Robert he said, without pausing:
“Meet me behind storehouse at sunset. Tell nobody.”