"I haf von idea, Armand, my friend," he observed, looking very wise.
"Zat is ver' well; but suppose you share ze same wif us all!" Lacroix cried, as he pressed his cheek against the butt of his heavy gun, after the manner of a man who longed to pull trigger and do fell execution.
"You seem to think," Larue continued, "ze young cubs zey come avay up to zis far country just to climb in zat tree, and listen to ze great Pontiac talk. Parbleau! zat is all wrong, I assure you on my honor. Look back, my friend, and perhaps you vill remember zat when ve lodged in ze great town of ze Senecas zere came into the same a young chief who bring wif heem a prisoner!"
Bob started, and bit his lips until the blood came. Without meaning to do the brothers a good turn Larue was about to make a disclosure that would do away with uncertainty concerning the whereabouts of the stolen Kate.
"Oui, I remember ze same, ver' well," said Armand; "but what may zat haf to do wif our young friends here? Haf zey lost some one from zere family? Was zat girl belong to zem, I would like to know?"
Jacques Larue nodded his head violently.
"At ze time somezings seem to say to me zat somewhere haf I seen ze pretty face of ze leetle one. Now I know. She is ze seester of ze Armstrong boys. From her home haf she been carry by ze young chief, who fancy her face, because he lose heem own seester not so long ago. And so, behold, do zese brave boys come all zis way to rescue ze Kate. Is it not grant? Alas! to zink zey fall themselves into ze power of ze savages, and be made to burn at ze stake. Zat is sad!"
He pretended to look mournful as he said this; but there was an old score to be settled between Jacques and the young pioneers, and Bob was not deceived in the least by this mockery of sympathy.
Back in those sparkling orbs he could see the wicked delight that filled the soul of Larue at this unexpected pleasure. For the moment even the insult, put upon him by the great Pontiac in the presence of scores of chiefs and warriors, was almost forgotten.
Nor was Armand Lacroix more to be depended on. He might, down in his heart, feel something like admiration for the grit shown by the lads in thus venturing into a hostile country in order to serve their loved sister. That feeling, however, would be utterly superceded by his joy at having a chance to vent his evil spite upon the boy who had held him up at the muzzle of his gun, and made him a laughing stock for Simon Kenton and his fellow borderers.