Something was to happen! “Tell nobody,” Captain Strobo had said; by that, Robert was not to tell even the Buck. There were many eyes and ears in this Fort Duquesne.
So at sunset he was behind the fort storehouse—in back of it where it stood near the pickets of the east side along the Monongahela River. And here, to his astonishment, the Buck was crouching; and around the corner of the house here came Captain Strobo, walking rapidly.
The place already was dim with shadow. Captain Strobo spoke to Robert and the Buck.
“Here are letters. One of you go to John Croghan in Pennsylvania, one to Washington. Will you?”
The Buck caught at the words.
“Wah! I find Croghan. Quick!”
“Good. The Hunter to Washington,” smiled Strobo. “One of you will get through. If these papers are captured, I die. If you lose them, tell what you have seen; all about the fort and the people. The Indians are not scouting; the French are careless. Let the English strike. They must not wait till we are safe out. They must keep La Force. He is dangerous. Our lives are nothing. We are not to be thought of. I would gladly die if the fort might be taken. You understand?”
Robert nodded. The Buck did not understand all, but he understood a part.
“We hear a chief,” he said in Iroquois.
He stuffed his letter inside his belt; Robert did the same.