It is idle to attempt to picture the feelings of Jake Golcher, when he learned from Mr. Brainerd, one of the captives, that Fred Godfrey had escaped but a few minutes before.

Weakly hoping there was some mistake, he turned to one of the Indians and demanded the truth. He got it in the shape of information that several of the fleetest warriors were hunting for the fugitive, and there was hope he would be brought in speedily.

The renegade stood a few seconds, and then began striding up and down in front of the camp-fire, indulging in imprecations too frightful to be recorded.

All this time Mr. Brainerd was so delighted that he forgot his own grief. He knew how great was the disappointment of the man, and he was pleased thereat, for, recalling the chastisement received from the hands of Aunt Peggy, it can be safely said that matters had gone ill with Golcher, since the lady began cooking for her captors.

By and by he exhausted himself, and then paused in front of Habakkuk McEwen and demanded:

"Why didn't you stop him when you seen him running away?"

"I didn't see him," was the truthful reply of the fellow, who was mean enough to add: "If I had, you can just bet I'd stopped him, even if my hands was tied."

"Why didn't you yell for me as soon as you found out he had gone?"

"I did yell," was the unblushing answer, "but there was so much confusion nobody noticed me, and the Injins was off after him as quick as he started."

"Just then Aunt Peggy was attending to you," Mr. Brainerd remarked, "and you were so badly used up that you wouldn't have noticed an earthquake had it come along."

Maggie looked beseechingly at her father, while the Tory glowered on him like a thunder-cloud.

But for his anxiety to win the good will of the pretty maiden, he would have struck down her parent where he stood. The latter acted as though he had given up all hope, and was trying to retaliate to some extent on him whom he detested.

"See here," said Habakkuk, with a flirt of his head and a confidential air, "ain't you going to cut them things that are tied about my arms?"

"What'll we do that for?"

"So's to let me loose," was the logical answer; "you know, Jakey—"

"There, don't call me Jakey," interrupted the Tory.

"Well, Mr. Golcher—"

"Make it plain 'Jake.'"

"Well, Jake, as I was going to say, I'm your friend, and have been ever since I knowed you, and you know it; if you'll let me loose I'll 'list under you; I'm already got up Injin style, and will sarve as one of your advanced scouts."

"Shet up?" interrupted Golcher; "I don't b'leve you're anything more than a rebel, and if we'd done as we orter, the whole caboodle of you would have been wiped out before the sun went down."

While the Tory was indulging in these expressions he continually glanced at Maggie Brainerd, occasionally taking a step toward her. It is at such times that a woman is quick to perceive the truth, and with the natural instinct of her sex, she looked at him in turn, and with that smile of hers that was really resistless, said:

"Jake, come here a minute, please."

In a flutter of surprise, he approached, with a smirking grin.

"What can I do for you, dear Maggie?"

"I'll be much obliged if you will cut those bonds which trouble father. He has suffered so much to-day that he is irritable, and I hope you will pardon him."

This was an audacious request, and took Golcher aback somewhat, but there was no refusing the prayer.

So, with the best grace possible, he stepped forward, hunting-knife in hand, and cut first the wire-like withes that held Habakkuk McEwen fast, and then did the same with those of Mr. Brainerd.

"I'm very much obliged," said the grateful Habakkuk; "you're very kind, and after this I'm your servant."

Angry as was Mr. Brainerd, he had better sense than to quarrel with his good fortune, and he thanked the man who loosened his arms, while at the same time he concluded to hold his peace for the time.

"Fred is beyond their reach," he thought, "and so is Gravity Gimp, and I judge one of them had a gun. True, that isn't much, but there is no saying what will be done with it, for both are as brave men as ever stood in battle.

"If Fred only had the chance, he would be heard from very soon. But there is none whom he can rally to our help. Ah, if he could but pick up a half-dozen soldiers, what a raid he would make through this camp! But wherever there are any of our soldiers they are wounded, killed, or so scared that they are an element of weakness.

"I can not help feeling some hope, and yet my reason tells me that there is no ground on which to base it."

Having complied with the request of Maggie Brainerd, Golcher felt authorized to approach her with a statement of his own proposition. Accordingly, he walked to the farther end of the log, and motioned for her to join him. She thought it best to comply, and did so, sitting down within a foot or two of him.

"You see," he said, with his smirk, "I've done what you axed me to do."

"You have, and I thank you for it."

"That's all right; there ain't nothin' mean about me, for all some folks choose to slander me. Now, I s'pose you'd like to have your father and the rest of them folks let go?"

"I have been praying for that ever since the Indians captured us."

"Wall, I've been thinking 'bout settin' you all loose to take care of yourselves."

"Oh, if you do, Mr. Golcher—"

"Thar, thar," he interrupted, with a wave of the hand; "call me 'Jake' when you speak to me."

"I'll be grateful to you, Jake, as long as I live, and so will they."

"That's all very well; but gratertude ain't going to do me much good," said Jake, with another grin. "I orter have some reward, Maggie."

"So you will; the reward of an approving conscience, which is beyond the price of rubies."

"I know all 'bout that," said he, slinging one leg over the other, after which he nursed the upper knee and swayed the foot back and forth; "but that don't satisfy me. I want more."

"We have a little farm, you know; I'll give you my share in that, and father, I'm sure, will pay you everything he can get together."

"Yes, but that ain't enough, Maggie."

"What else can we do?" she asked, despairingly, while her sex's intuition told her what he was hinting at.

"I want you," he said, bending his head close to her, while she recoiled; "if you'll be my wife, I'll let your father, Eva, yourself, and even Aunt Peggy, go; if you don't, the Senecas shall tomahawk them all."

Maggie Brainerd knew this was coming, and she asked herself whether it was not her duty to be offered up as a sacrifice, to save her beloved friends. Would there be any more heroism in doing so than had been displayed before by thousands of her sex?

She was prayerfully considering the question, when her indignant father, who had heard it all, broke in with:

"Tell him no—a thousand times no! If you don't, you are no daughter of mine!"