"We three of us could put up a good fight," said Henry, " and I
propose that we don't go back to that camp, but spend the night
here."

"Yes, an' watch good," said Tom Ross.

Their new camp was made quickly in silence, merely the grass
under the low boughs of a tree. Their supper was a little
venison, and then they watched the coming of the. darkness. It
was a heavy hour for the three. Long Jim was gone, and then
Paul-Paul, the youngest, and, in a way, the pet of the little
band.

"Ef we could only know how it happened," whispered Shif'less Sol,
"then we might rise up an' fight the danger an' git Paul an' Jim
back. But you can't shoot at somethin' you don't see or hear.
In all them fights o' ours, on the Ohio an' Mississippi we knowed
what wuz ag'inst us, but here we don't know nothin'."

" It is true, Sol," sighed Henry. "We were making such big
plans, too, and before we can even start our force is cut nearly
in half. To-morrow we'll begin the hunt again. We'll never
desert Paul and Jim, so long as we don't know they're dead."

"It's my watch," said Tom. "You two sleep. We've got to keep
our strength."

Henry and the shiftless one acquiesced, and seeking the softest
spots under the tree sat down. Tom Ross took his place about ten