"Surely," replied the other, endeavoring to control his anxiety as best he was able. "It was the report of a gun without a doubt; though, under here, sounds come but faintly."
"Yes, but mark that there was only one shot!" continued Sandy. "Whoever fired that did not miss. If it was Kenton, then we have no longer any need of fear lest we be betrayed; but, should it have been Armand Lacroix, perhaps we have lost our best friend, and the whole frontier will mourn the death of brave Simon Kenton."
They sat there waiting. The roar of the waterfall was the only sound that came to their ears. Both of them gripped their guns in nervous hands, and had no heart to exchange further words.
"Some one is coming," whispered Sandy, suddenly.
"Yes," his brother added, as he raised his musket so as to be ready for any emergency; "I, too, saw a shadow flit past that bright spot on the wall. Oh!"
Kenton suddenly stood before them. The first thing Bob and Sandy noticed was that the young borderer carried two guns! They could easily guess the meaning of such a thing.
"Here is your rifle, Abijah!" said the returned frontiersman, as he handed the weapon over to his big companion; then he coolly started to reload his own gun.
"But—Armand Lacroix, what of him?" asked Sandy, appalled at the consciousness that one of those dark tragedies, so common on the border, must have just taken place.
"Fear no ill," said Simon Kenton, calmly. "He will not betray us. We are safe yet a while, my brave boys."