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Updated: June 5, 2025


They're scattered all over. Simon Girty, since his crowning black deed, the massacre of the Christian Indians, is in hiding. Bing Legget now has the field. He's a hard nut, a cunning woodsman, and capable leader who surrounds himself with only the most desperate Indians and renegades. Brandt is an agent of Legget's and I'll bet we'll hear from him again."

Legget arose, shook himself like a shaggy dog, and was starting for the door when one of the sentinels stopped him. Brandt, who was now awake, saw the action, and smiled. In a few moments Indians and outlaws were eating for breakfast roasted strips of venison, with corn meal baked brown, which served as bread. It was a somber, silent group. Presently the shrill neigh of a horse startled them.

Like a lynx scenting its quarry, the borderman started on the trail, tireless and unswervable. The traces left by the fleeing outlaws and their pursuer were plain to Jonathan. It was not necessary for him to stop. Legget and Brandt, seeking to escape the implacable Nemesis, were traveling with all possible speed, regardless of the broad trail such hurried movements left behind.

Did you get out all right with the lass?" "Nary a scratch." The giant borderman grunted his satisfaction. "How'd Legget and Brandt get away?" asked Jonathan. "Cut an' run like scared bucks. Never got a hand on either of 'em." "How many redskins did they meet back here a spell?" "They was seven; but now there are only six, an' all snug in Legget's place by this time."

"Brandt an' Metzar, with Legget backin' them, an' the horses go overland to Detroit?" "I calkilate you've hit the mark." "What'll we do?" asked Jonathan. "Wait; that's best. We've no call to hurry. We must know the truth before makin' a move, an' as yet we're only suspicious. This lass'll find out more in a week than we could in a year. But Jack, have a care she don't fall into any snare.

Legget and Brandt must have discharged their weapons ineffectually. Zane could not understand why his comrade had missed Brandt at a few rods' distance. Perhaps he had wounded the younger outlaw; but certainly he had escaped while Wetzel had closed in on Legget to meet the hardest battle of his career.

When he saw the borderman he backed, with involuntary, instinctive action, against the wall, yet showed no fear. In the dark glance Jonathan shot at Brandt shone a pitiless implacability; no scorn, nor hate, nor passion, but something which, had it not been so terrible, might have been justice. "I think Wetzel was hurt in the fight with Legget," said Jonathan deliberately, "an' ask if you know?"

"Brandt's had a hand in this, an' the Englishman's a fool!" said Wetzel. "An hour ahead; can we come up with them before they join Brandt an' Legget?" "We can try, but like as not we'll fail. Legget's gang is thirteen strong by now. I said it! Somethin' told me a hard trail, a long trail, an' our last trail." "It's over thirty miles to Legget's camp.

I feared him, hated him, scorned him, as if he were a snake, yet he saved me from that monster Legget!" "For himself!" "Well, yes, I can't deny that. But he could have ruined me, wrecked me, yet he did not. At least, he meant marriage by me. He said if I would marry him he would flee over the border and be an honest man." "Have you no other reason?" "Yes."

"I'm sure I can," rejoined Brandt. "It'll be a good job, a good job an' all done in daylight, too. Bing Legget couldn't plan better," Metzar said, rubbing his hands, "We've fooled these Zanes and their fruit-raising farmers for a year, and our time is about up," Brandt muttered. "One more job and we've done. Once with Legget we're safe, and then we'll work slowly back towards Detroit.

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