“Well,” said Harry impatiently, “that isn’t the end.”
“I went back to the camp. Crooked Lightning followed me and they tied me and were going to burn me at the stake.”
“Good heavens!” breathed Barbara.
“How’d you get away?”
“The Indian girl, Early Morn, slipped under the tent and cut me loose. The white woman got my gun, and Firefly—you know nothing can catch Firefly.” The silence was intense. Hugh looked dazed, Barbara was on the point of tears, Harry was triumphant, and Grey was painfully flushed.
“And you want to know what I am going to do now?” Erskine went on. “I’m going with Captain George Rogers Clark—with what command are you, Mr. Grey?”
“That’s a secret,” he smiled coolly. “I’ll let you know later,” and Barbara, with an inward sigh of relief, rose quickly, but would not leave them behind.
“But the white woman?” questioned Harry. “Why doesn’t she leave the Indians?”
“Early Morn—a half-breed—is her daughter,” said Erskine simply.
“Oh!” and Harry questioned no further.