Corporal Dubbs nodded approvingly. "That's the best thing you can do," he said. "The sight of you, lad, will be better than medicine for the captain. There's a stage from Harris's Ferry to Philadelphia in the morning. You can catch it if you hurry. Don't forget the place, and be sure you ask for Jonas Welfare. And be careful when you get in the neighborhood of the Shrewsbury, for the enemy are making raids over that way from New York."
"I'll remember," assented Nathan. "I must go now. We have a canoe below, and I mean to catch that stage. Will you tell Sergeant Murdock at Fort Hunter that Barnabas is dead and ask him to find the body and—and—bury it—"
The lad's voice broke, and for a moment he could not speak.
"In Barnabas's left boot," he added, "is a packet of papers that he was taking care of for me. They belong to my father. Will you ask the sergeant to keep them until they are sent for?"
Corporal Dubbs readily promised, and with a hearty clasp of the lad's hand he mounted and rode after the now moving wagon-train.
Nathan and Godfrey hurried back to the canoe and were soon paddling swiftly down the river. The roar of the falls faded behind them, and when a curve hid the fatal spot from view, Nathan turned with tear-dimmed eyes for a last look.
"You forgot about Noah Waxpenny," said Godfrey, when the lads had paddled some distance in silence.
"So I did!" exclaimed Nathan. "I hope Sergeant Murdock won't catch him, and if he does I don't believe he will dare to hang him. As for that mystery—why, I'll get my father to explain it."
"Then you are going straight to see him?"
"Straight," declared Nathan. "You heard what Corporal Dubbs told me. I'm going to travel as fast as I can. And what will you do, Godfrey, I don't want to part—"