"Don't you think it is more humane to kill him than to let him starve to death?"
"He won't starve to death," I added. "He will crawl up to Mr. Gracewood's house, where there is enough to feed an army for a short time."
"Don't you suppose the two Indians that escaped are watching us now?" asked Morgan.
"Very likely they are."
"And as soon as we are gone, they will come back."
"We can't help it," I answered.
"They will burn the house, and destroy that Chickering's grand piano."
"It would break Mr. Gracewood's heart to have that destroyed, for it was his best friend for years; but I don't see that we can do anything to preserve it. We might save some of his property."
"I think we ought to do so," added Morgan. "It will not delay us fifteen minutes."
We decided to do so; and, fastening the rope attached to the raft to a tree, we hastened up to the house. Loading the wheelbarrow with the most valuable articles, and carrying as many as we could in our hands, we returned to the raft. Putting the goods into the boat, we were again ready for a start. The barge was so crowded with Mr. Gracewood's effects that the two soldiers decided to go on the raft, leaving me to row the boat, which was not a difficult task, down the river. The two men were provided with poles to assist in steering it, and getting it off from the shore.