"That's true, Bob," responded Sandy, readily enough. "Blue Jacket is our friend, but he's the only wearer of a red skin that I would trust. Now, of course, you're wondering what ails me. I'll tell you. I didn't like the way that young Delaware chief looked at our pretty little sister, Kate!"
"What's that you are saying?" demanded Bob, frowning.
"I saw him, if you didn't," continued Sandy, stubbornly. "He kept looking at her every little while even as he talked; for, you know, some of the women and girls came out of the stockade to look at the Indians. I tell you plainly that my finger just itched to touch the trigger of my gun when I saw him staring at Kate like that."
"But—he walked over here with us to get the measure of meal father promised to give him, without accepting any pay?" Bob went on, as if hardly able to credit the grave thing his brother was hinting at.
"Yes, and I kept just behind him all the time," Sandy went on, "with my gun in my hands. I think he noticed me after a while, for he stopped looking. But I wouldn't trust that heathen further than I could see him."
"Well, they have gone away," said Bob, as though that settled it.
"How do you know that?" questioned Sandy.
"Secretly, acting under orders from Captain Brady, old Reuben followed them for three miles, keeping himself hidden all the while. He reported that they had surely kept straight on, secured a canoe just where they said they had hidden one, and paddled across the river, landing on the other shore, and disappearing in the forest."
"But Black Beaver plans to come back some day," Sandy continued, as he arose; "I could see it in his eyes. And I mean to warn mother, so that she can keep Kate from wandering away from home so much. If ever I see that Delaware chief sneaking around here it will be a bad day for him."
"We called them Delawares, but old Reuben says now he made a mistake, and that they belong to the Iroquois. He told me that Black Beaver was a chief among the Senecas, and that his home was far away toward the Great Lakes."