“Let nobody swallow a drop of that water!” he cried. “It has been poisoned, and the poisoner is still sheltered by the roof of Fort Strong!”
The effect of the startling words was utterly indescribable. It could not have been equaled by the sudden dropping of a thunderbolt into the fort.
CHAPTER VI.
WITHOUT THE FORT.
During the brief period of time that intervened between the battle at the gates and the discharge of blazing arrows at the fort itself, the beautiful fire-lands had not escaped the vengeance of the settlers’ enemies.
The deserted cabins were given over to the mercies of the torch, and the work of months perished in a few hours. The red burners were accompanied by British soldiers, who outdid the fiends of the forest in heartless ferocity, and at nightfall they returned to the besiegers loaded with plunder and glutted with diabolism.
“Well, what are you going to do with your man, now that you’ve got him?” asked Colonel O’Neill of Royal Funk, when the outlaw reappeared at the British head-quarters, fresh from the work of destruction above referred to.
“What am I going to do with ’im, colonel? Why, I’ll tell you. It was my intention to execute ’im on top o’ the hill, yesterday; but I’ve changed my mind. There’s a girl in Fort Strong—a girl whom I want—Huldah Armstrong, and strange to say, Card Belt wants her, too.”
“Ah! I see,” said the British officer, with a smile. “He is your rival.”
“Yes, colonel; but I hold the best hand now, as you will admit by glancing at the cards. We are bound to take the fort.”
“It will be ours before another sunset. You know what Strong is doing?”