Chapter XIII
A Traitor in the Camp
"To Captain Steve Mainwaring, His Majesty's Regiment of Scouts."
An Indian climbed up the steep rise of the hillock on the day following the French attack and presented a note to our hero. Steve turned it over in his gloved hand, looked at the writing, and then opened the missive.
"You have done well, and I congratulate you," ran the letter from the Commander of Fort William Henry. "Your messenger reached us late last night and explained the heavy firing which we had heard. For your information I now beg to tell you that I have suspicions that news is leaking out of this fort. The French have become acquainted with our dispositions within a few hours of our making them. There is treachery somewhere, and I look to you to discover who is the rascal. You will take steps to clear up this mystery, and will report in due course. I am sending you this day a further store of provisions, powder, and shot to suit the captured cannon."
There was the usual official ending to the letter and the signature of the Commander of Fort William Henry. Steve read it through again, folded it, and dismissed the Indian. Then he called Pete and Jim and discussed the matter with them.
"Ef there was fifty traitors and bearers of news it wouldn't surprise me," said Pete. "I ain't got no opinion of them colonists and reg'lars at Fort William Henry. No opinion at all. They ain't fer the most part fit to watch for Frenchmen, and much less for Injuns. What air the use of expecting 'em to be any good, when them critters the Frenchies could slip through trappers sich as we air? How do yer mean to get about the business, Cap'n? It seems no easy matter. You've got a mighty wide strip of country to watch, and ef it's one man bearin' the news, as seems probable, why, he can go any way, and slip in between us."
The question was a more than usually difficult one, and for a long while Steve sat and smoked, staring out through the exit of the fort, for the damage done by the exploding powder had now been more or less repaired. News was leaking out of the British fort, news which might be of importance. It was feared that the French, who were in great strength at Ticonderoga, might select some clear, fine night to start out from their fort, and time their march so as to arrive near Fort William Henry early in the morning. The commander who had sent Steve the message knew very well that he was sadly lacking in many respects, particularly in scouts, and the fear of this descent of the French weighed upon him. And now, in some way or other, he had learned that news was leaking, that plans he made to resist a French attack were promptly conveyed to the enemy.
"We have got to stop the leakage whatever happens," said Steve suddenly, "for if the French are always to know what our people are doing, they might easily take them unawares and slaughter the whole garrison. My idea is to take advantage of snowy and overcast weather."
"Snowy weather! Steve—beg pardon—Cap'n, that ain't like you," exclaimed Jim, somewhat sadly. "How on airth air a man to see sech a skunk when it's thick? It ain't possible. Ef there's one thing sartin it is that thick weather ain't the time to turn out and hunt."