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Updated: October 7, 2025
Listen! The Indians wish to kill you. I wish to save you. If I do that, will you you " "What?" "Will you promise to go to your father and tell him I have saved you?" "Why do you want that?" "We are now enemies. I wish to be friends. He will be a friend to one who saves his son's life." "Perhaps, Bevoir." Dave's head was in a whirl. "But this, of you! I can scarcely believe it!
You were there, for one." "No! no! I I vas far away!" "Tell me who organized the attack." "I I cannot!" "You can." "No! no! I I I Stop! Do not shoot me! I vill tell! Eet vas Jean Bevoir." "I thought as much. Was Jacques Valette with him?" "Oui! But say not I tell you, or za vill keel me!" "And Hector Bergerac?" The Frenchman shook his head. "Not Bergerac, no. He ees gone avay."
"The English do not own this land," put in Jean Bevoir. "It has always belonged to the French and the Indians, and it belongs to them still. No army has been sent out here to take possession, and how can the English claim that which they have not even seen or marked out?" "I won't discuss the old quarrel with you, Bevoir," said James Morris briefly.
"You heard my answer to Bevoir," returned James Morris. "If you wish to locate, why not do so here? This was a spot Monsieur Bevoir always admired," he added, with some slight show of sarcasm. "On this burnt-over spot!" ejaculated Jean Bevoir. "No, thank you! I shall go where I expected to go to the Ohio."
I was a fool to go with him in the first place, and that is why I wish to see your father." "Did you have anything to do with the looting of the pack-train?" "No! no! I am not a robber of the road, like Bevoir and Valette. They wanted me to go into the thing, but I refused. Then we quarreled, and I went my own way.
At this plain outburst Jean Bevoir grew first pale and then crimson. His hand sought the pistol at his side, but the stern look in the English trader's face caused him to drop his hold on the weapon. "I will not listen to such talk from you!" he exclaimed, grating his teeth savagely. "The story is not true, and you know it. I was wounded while aiding some French people who were sick.
He wondered what he had best do. Should he risk a rush to the right or the left? That would place one set of enemies in front of him and one behind. But all might pass on, leaving him to shift for himself. While he was deliberating a shout rang out ahead, followed by a rifle shot. Then, as if in a dream, he heard a yell in Sam Barringford's voice: "Stop, Jean Bevoir, you everlastin' rascal! Stop!"
"What a scoundrel Jean Bevoir is!" put in Dave. "Wouldn't you think that, after all his upsettings, he would be content to rest and do what was right?" "Some men are born that way, lad," said the old frontiersman. "It's in their nature. He won't stop bein' bad until he's killed or dies a natural death; no two ways on't." "I think Jacques Valette must be about as bad."
The Wyandots have in their village the son of James Morris, he who has settled upon the Ohio." "A prisoner, or to trade?" "A prisoner. Where he was captured they will not tell, but Flat Nose thinks it must have been miles from here." "Was Pontiac of the Ottawas at the village?" asked the other Indian. "He was looked for by sunset. That is why I have hurried to see Jean Bevoir and his men.
One of the dead redskins was a Wanderer, and a dead white man was that good-for-nothing Baptiste Masson I have often mentioned to you." "The fellow who traveled with Jean Bevoir?" "The same. I am inclined to think that the attack was organized by Flat Nose, of the Wanderers, and Bevoir. If you'll remember, Jadwin said Flat Nose, Bevoir, and Valette were very friendly." "What about Sam?"
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