“Alive!” exclaimed McGillivray, slowly lowering his pistol.
“If your Majesty please, I hear some one coming,” spoke up the second keeper.
In another moment Polcher stood outside the window, blinking at the candle and impatient to learn what it all meant.
“I am sorry to have disturbed your rest,” McGillivray harshly informed. “But my guest has been roaming about the village, and four of my knives are missing from the collection. It seems it was a false alarm.” Then, wheeling on Sevier, he shouted, “—— it, man! Why don’t you speak? It’s dangerous to play tricks on McGillivray of the Creeks.”
“I wish to remind his Majesty that he has done me the dishonour of accusing me of breaking my word and of having killed a sleeping man. When I execute Polcher he will be wide awake,” Sevier haughtily replied, fighting for more time.
“If the All Powerful would tell me what has happened perhaps my poor wits might put it together and guess the truth,” meekly suggested Polcher, inwardly raging with impatience.
McGillivray, deeply irritated, briefly narrated the fact of Sevier’s theft of the knives and of his absence from his room and his return to it.
Polcher, standing shoulder-deep among the dogs, gripped the window-sill, his eyes flaming as he sensed the truth.
“He took the knives to use against your pets. But he returns without them. So he must have taken them to some one else. Perhaps to the man called Jackson. I advise—”
With a shout of rage McGillivray leaped through the window and ran toward the cabin, the pack at his heels. The emperor’s passion subsided as he saw the cabin door was closed; then flared high as a closer approach revealed it was unfastened. He tore the door open and Polcher leaped inside and kicked about the narrow confines and swept his hands over the rought pallet of straw.