The haunted trader recognized Blount’s voice, and a moment later he stood before the three men.
“Will you not save me?” he pleaded, suddenly discovering that he was not so eager to die as he seemed to be a moment since.
“I thought you wanted to die!” said the giant with a sneer. “Williamson, you deserve to perish like a dog—you the devil whose hate of a noble Injun is deluging the Illinois in innocent blood. But they’ll catch you yet, an’ then you’ll experience what Jack Senior did.”
The terrible doom of Senior was known throughout the length and breadth of the Illinois country.
“No, no,” groaned Williamson, his knees smiting one another. “I’ll cut my throat first.”
“They’ll never give you that chance,” put in Somerville, who smiled to see the terror of the justly haunted wretch.
“We’re huntin’ a gal—Kate Blount,” said Doc Bell, addressing the cowardly trader, “an’ we’ll take you with us if you promise to behave decently.”
“I’ll do that,” was the response, “and, sirs, I’ll fight like a lion, when it comes to that.”
“Well, it’s coming to that,” said the giant, “and then—”
“Hark!” whispered the youth, clutching his companion’s arm.