Thus while Fishing Bird hastened to the meeting place from one point, Ree was making his way toward the same ledge of rocks from another. Without the least difficulty the lone occupant of the mysterious camp had been captured and taken away. While Jim Small and another of the woodsmen watched the camp from the bushes to surprise and make prisoners of any confederates of the fellow, should such put in an appearance, Sergeant Quayle and the fourth of his squad held the murderer in close quarters at the hollow whitewood. Search of the camp would not be made, it was agreed, until Kingdom’s return with Fishing Bird.
Ree and the Delaware reached the place of meeting at about the same time. As the redskin came up, Kingdom searched his face anxiously for some clue to the tidings he brought. It was vain to do so. Indian-like, he could conceal his thoughts completely and he wanted the pleasure of telling what he had accomplished before its substance was surmised.
He soon did tell, however, all that had happened and very soberly, indeed, did Ree receive the news. How glad he was that Fishing Bird had reached the village so opportunely need not be told. The great question was what could be done to rescue John Jerome?
“We’ll ask the Sergeant what he thinks about it,” said Kingdom as the Delaware told more fully of the desperate situation their friend was in. “Come, we must hurry. There’ll be not a minute to lose.”
Another surprise awaited Ree when the old poplar was reached.
“Whist! The dirty British pig has tould iverything!” whispered Sergeant Quayle, meeting Kingdom and the Indian at the edge of the thicket. “A foine thing it is, too, so it is!” And with these words the disgusted Irishman led the way forward.
Within the hollow tree there lay a great bulk of a fellow groveling on the leaf-strewn earth, bewailing his fate, pleading for mercy, and altogether making of himself a most miserable, loathsome spectacle.
“Oh, if I’d knowed it would come to this!” he blubbered. “Don’t let them punish me! Oh, kind gentlemen, save me! Let me go away and sin no more! Won’t some one speak a kind word to me?”
The abject fear of the craven, now that his crime had found him out, would have been pitiable had his whole manner not been so utterly contemptible.
Giving little heed to the guilty wretch, however, Ree at once apprised the Sergeant of the news Fishing Bird had brought and the latter was immediately sent to summon Jim Small and his companions for a conference.