“Yes; positive!”
“Then there is all the more reason for acting with promptness and decision,” the lieutenant said emphatically. “Ruthven is a dangerous man,” he added to me. “He is an official of the Northwest Company, and is said to have stirred up the half-breeds against us. But I’ll get the upper hand of him this time.”
A moment later, Boyd having given the force sharp and precise instructions, we sallied out from the woods and across the clearing. As stealthily as panthers we gained the house, and a dozen of our men quickly surrounded it. Five posted themselves before the door—the lieutenant, Nicoll and McKay, Carteret and myself. We held our weapons ready for use.
“If they don’t let us in at once,” Boyd whispered, “we’ll force an entrance. It’s not a case for parleying.”
With that he rapped on the door—by no means lightly. There was a sudden hush inside, then a cautious approach of booted feet, and then a gruff voice demanded:
“Who’s there?”
“A friend,” answered the lieutenant.
“What do you want?”
“I have an important message for Jim Ruthven.”
“From the fort?”