probably never get to Vincennes alive?"

"I don't care, sir," I said. A happy thought struck me. "If they see a
boy going through the water, sir--" I hesitated, abashed.

"What then?" said Clark, shortly.

"It may keep some from going back," I finished.

At that he gave a sort of gasp, and stared at me the more.

"Egad," he said, "I believe the good Lord launched you wrong end to.
Perchance you will be a child when you are fifty."

He was silent a long time, and fell to musing. And I thought he had
forgotten.

"May I go, sir?" I asked at length.

He started.

"Come here," said he. But when I was close to him he merely laid his
hand on my shoulder. "Yes, you may go, Davy."

He sighed, and presently turned to his writing again, and I went back
joyfully to my cleaning.

On a certain dark 4th of February, picture the village of Kaskaskia
assembled on the river-bank in capote and hood. Ropes are cast off, the
keel-boat pushes her blunt nose through the cold, muddy water, the oars