"Fie, sir!" And she interrupted merrily enough. "And how many pledges have you left behind in Louisiana?"
"Two," returned Norton, so that for a moment her face became as serious as his own. "One to my friend, Davy Crockett, in shape of my finest rifle; and one to the traders who sent me hither, in shape of a promise that I would wipe out Blacknose. Tell me, Kitty, do you wish to marry Charles Duval?"
"Do you think I wish it?" And she inspected him with half-frightened eyes.
"Well"—Norton shifted his rifle uneasily,—"he is a person of note, is a gentleman of family—and is able to buy you with money."
"So much might be said for the Indian Tecumthe," she returned, flushing at the brutality of his last words. "No, I shall not marry him."
"Bravely said," nodded Norton, and felt tremendously relieved. Of course, he told himself, his only interest lay in saving this helpless girl from two scoundrels. "Well, even if Abel Grigg swears you're under age——"
"There's the skiff coming!" she cried quickly. "Just crossing over."
Norton glanced up. Perhaps a mile down the river and with her eight sweeps bringing her slowly across in a long slant for the Kentucky side, was a large boat. There was no hurry, he calculated, for she would require a good fifteen or twenty minutes to head over across the swift current of the Ohio——
"——then you take this horse and rejoin the boys. I'll get back in that boat."
The cold, commanding words rang out clearly from somewhere behind and above.