manner, "that they magnify the dangers of the wilderness. The ford at
which we were to meet Colden is just ahead, and we've come straight to
it without the slightest mishap. Colden is no sluggard, and he should
be here in the morning at the latest. Do you find anything wrong with
my reasoning, Hugh?"

"Naught, William," replied the other, who seemed to be second in
command. "Your logic is both precise and beautiful. The dangers of the
border are greatly exaggerated, and as soon as we get together a good
force all these French and Indians will flee back to Canada. Ah, who
is this?"

Both he and his chief turned and faced the woods in astonishment. A
youth had stepped forth, and stood in full view. He was taller than
either, but younger, dressed completely in deerskin, although superior
in cut and quality to that of the ordinary borderer, his complexion
fair beneath his tan, and his hair light. He gazed at them steadily
with bright blue eyes, and both the first lieutenant and the second
lieutenant of the Quaker troop saw that he was no common person.

"Who are you?" repeated William Wilton, who was the first lieutenant.

"Who are you?" repeated Hugh Carson, who was the second lieutenant.

"My name is Robert Lennox," replied the young stranger in a mellow
voice of amazing quality, "and you, I suppose, are Lieutenant William
Wilton, the commander of this little troop."

He spoke directly to the first lieutenant, who replied, impressed as
much by the youth's voice as he was by his appearance: