“Sh-h-h! It is not wise. Are you not known?”
Erskine hesitated.
Earlier that morning he had seen three officers riding in. Following was a youth not in uniform though he carried a sword. On the contrary, he was dressed like an English dandy, and then he found himself face to face with Dane Grey. With no sign of recognition the boy had met his eyes squarely and passed on.
“There is but one man who does know me and he did not recognize me. His name is Dane Grey. I am wondering what he is doing here. Can you find out for me and let me know?” The old priest nodded and Erskine slipped back to the woods.
At sunrise the great council began. On his way Erskine met Grey, who apparently was leaving with a band of traders for Detroit. Again Erskine met his eyes and this time Grey smiled:
“Aren’t you White Arrow?” Somehow the tone with which he spoke the name was an insult.
“Yes.”
“Then it’s true. We heard that you had left your friends at the fort and become an Indian again.”
“Yes?”
“So you are not only going to fight with the Indians against the whites, but with the British against America?”