"It ain't any easy job, figger as you will," Sergeant Corney said, when I
had put the situation before him from my point of view. "But I'm reckonin'
that we're goin' to come somewhere near succeedin'. We can count on doin'
pretty much as we please from now till to-morrow mornin', providin' we
don't stick our noses into the camps of the Britishers or Tories, for you
can set it down as a fact that every red-faced wretch will have
considerable on hand this night. The only trouble will be that we may have
to keep within cover while they're torturin' some poor fellow under our
very shadows. You'll have to keep in mind that Peter an' Jacob Sitz are
the only white men we're after, an' shut both eyes an' ears to every one
else."

"Suppose Jacob has been made prisoner? Would you risk your life to save
him?"

The old man made no reply until I had repeated the question, and then he
said, slowly:

"If there was any show of bein' able to work the trick, you could count
on me to the end; but if he _has_ fallen into their clutches, unless some
wonderfully big turn of affairs comes in our path, we would be only
throwin' away the lives of both without chance of helpin' him. I've heard
long-tongued boasters tellin' how they'd rescued a prisoner from an Indian
camp, but I never believed anything of the kind, for it ain't to be done
more'n one time in a thousand, an' then you'd have to find a lot of
red-skinned idjuts to work on."

Sergeant Corney had used a good many words in replying to my short
question, and I believed he had done so to the end that I might not fully