"Ha! that makes you shiver, does it?" cried Jean Bevoir wickedly. "We shall
not have to say much, The red men can take their own part. They know well
that the French are their true friends, and the English their real
enemies."

"You scoundrel!" cried James Morris hotly. "Dare to provoke the red men to
fight, and I will see to it that you shall not escape as you did at
Montreal. Perhaps you do not know that I have knowledge of your evil doings
at Montreal--how you and others tried to loot the stores and private
dwellings, and how both the French and the English soldiers turned on you
and your dastardly companions and shot you down. How you escaped from
justice I do not know, but perhaps, even yet, the authorities will listen
to a charge against you."

At this plain outburst Jean Bevoir grew first pale and then crimson. His
hand sought the pistol at his side, but the stern look in the English
trader's face caused him to drop his hold on the weapon.

"I will not listen to such talk from you!" he exclaimed, grating his teeth
savagely. "The story is not true, and you know it. I was wounded while
aiding some French people who were sick. I never stole a thing in my life!
It is for the English to make up such tales, just to get the French into
trouble."

"You wouldn't have to take my word for it," retorted James Morris grimly.
"The evidence would rest with those who caught you in the act at Montreal."

"Will you tell us where your post on the Ohio is located?" asked Jacques
Valette.