“I only know he lives up the mountain somewhere, and makes his living through selling pelts. I don’t even know his name,” said Mrs. Vernon.
“That’s him! Ole Granny Dunstan’s son,” returned Lemuel.
“Is he with you to-night?” continued the Captain.
“Nah! He’s gone to Washerton most ten days ago. They writ him a note sayin’ they was holdin’ a French paper fer him,” explained a young man who was standing on the outer line of the posse.
“He fit so hard in France, yeh know, that th’ Frenchys done sent him a fine paper tellin’ folks about him. I’ve hear’n said folks over thar nicknamed him an ‘ace,’” said another man.
“Then he must have been an aviator!” exclaimed Mrs. Vernon.
“Yeh! he can fly in one of them machines—but we don’t keep any in Freedom, so we never seed him ride one,” said Lemuel.
“Well, gentlemen, I thank you for this information. But should you see him when he returns from Washington, tell him we want him to stop in and see us—at Dandelion Camp.”
The Chief had ordered his men to accompany the convicts to the village, so Mr. Gilroy offered the car to them. He was going to stay at camp with the scouts, he said.
“But we left our suitcases at the hotel, and Hepsy is at the stable in Freedom!” declared the Captain.