"Yes, I seen 'em both," corroborated Atwood.
"I was watching the Indians all the time, and Colonel Butler," said Nathan. "So Glass has arrived then? But you don't think he'll give us any more trouble?"
Barnabas only shook his head.
"McNicol," he said, "stand yonder by the door, an' keep your ears to the wood. Watchin' won't come amiss."
The man went to his post, and Barnabas stooped down and lifted the slab. He dropped to his knees, dug rapidly into the dirt with a knife, and lifted out a flat tin box, much rusted. He forced the lid open and handed Nathan a packet of papers sealed with green wax.
The lad pressed it reverently to his lips. "I won't look at them," he declared. "The seal shall remain unbroken until I find my father, or until I am satisfied that he is dead."
"It would be wise to learn the contents, lad," said Barnabas.
Nathan shook his head. "My father's secret is sacred to me," he replied. "If he is alive, he would wish me to guard it, I know. But the papers must not be lost. Will you keep them for me?"
BARNABAS HANDED NATHAN A PACKET OF PAPERS