"They made a mistake. It is Jean Bevoir beyond any doubt."

"So you are here," declared the Frenchman, glaring darkly at the trader. "I
was told that the Englishmen had come no further westward than Fort
Duquesne."

"You mean Fort Pitt," answered James Morris pointedly. "Fort Duquesne is a
thing of the past." "Some day the fort shall come back to its own," put in
one of Bevoir's companions, whose name was Jacques Valette. "You English
have but a slim foothold."

"That is a matter of opinion, Valette," answered James Morris. He knew
Jacques Valette to be a hunter of the rougher sort, given to much fighting
and dissipating. "The war is at an end, and for the present my country is
master of the situation."

"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. "We are here to stay, and that is the end of the matter, so far as
I am concerned. You can do as you please, but I warn you not to interfere
with me. If you do, you will get your fingers burnt."

"The place is burnt down," said the third Frenchman, whose name was Hector
Bergerac. He too was a hunter, but of a better sort than Bevoir or Valette.
"Shall you build again?"