“What words say?” cried Ahdeek, clutching his comrade’s arm, as he pointed excitedly to the letters which he could not master.
The young death-dealer did not reply, but continued to shift his position until every letter was plainly revealed.
Then he read:
“White Tiger, you have my father’s ring! Meet me here one week from this night, and place it on my finger, else I rid the Chippewas of their Destroyer.
“August 12, 1763. “Signed, Marie Knight.”
The Destroyer read the inscription twice before he moved a muscle.
“Come, brother, what words say?” questioned Ahdeek, impatiently.
“They tell you to place the ring on the pale girl’s hand one week from last night, or die.”
The half-breed smiled ludicrously.
“Ring lost.”
“It must be found!”