"I generally try to be," Dane replied. "Have you the message for
Davidson?"
"It's not ready yet, but I shall write it at once."
The Major turned to the table, drew a sheet of paper toward him, and picked up a quill pen, which he examined critically before dipping it into the ink. Again he turned to the courier.
"The situation is serious up river, is it not?" he asked.
"It certainly is. Davidson must have help."
"Where is the greatest danger?"
"That is hard to tell. The slashers are scattered over a wide extent of country, and are to be found in most unexpected places. Why, you have them in and around here. My Indian and I were fired upon yesterday while crossing the Kennebacasis, and I was attacked by three while leaving the trading post."
"And you were fired upon yesterday, you say?" the Major asked in surprise. "How far out?"
"About ten miles. We had just crossed the portage from the main river to the Kennebacasis when we heard the slashers at work. We launched our canoe, and were heading for this side when they blazed at us several times."
"Dear me! Dear me!" the Major groaned. "I didn't know they were as bold as all that."