pulling the old man to his feet and protesting it was but a trick he
would never let another play on him. And then we four fell upon the
deer's meat which was by this time--not cooked, to be sure, but seared a
little on the outside in true hunter fashion.

While we ate, Richard spoke freely of our intendings; and in return
Ephraim Yeates was able to confirm Mr. Gilbert Stair's war news to the
letter. For all his Tory bias and prejudice, it seemed that Margery's
father had spoken by the book. Gates' army was crushed and scattered to
the four winds; Thomas Sumter's free-lances had been attacked, worsted
and driven, with the leader himself so sorely wounded that he was
carried from the field in a blanket slung between the horses of two of
his men; and, as was to be expected, the Tories were up and arming in
all the north country. Truly, the prospect was most gloomy and the
outlook for the patriot cause was to the full as desperate as King
George himself could wish.

"But you, Ephraim, and the chief, here; are you two running away like
all the others?" Richard would ask.

The old hunter growled his denial between the mouthfuls of scarce-warmed
meat. "I reckon ez how 'tis t'other way 'round; we're sort o' camping on
the redcoats' trail, ez I allow. Ain't we, Chief, hey?"

The Catawba's assent was a guttural "Wah!" and Ephraim Yeates went on to
explain.

"Ye see, 'tis this-away. You took a laugh out'n me, Cap'n Dick, for
spying 'round on that there Britisher hoss-captain and his redskins; but
'long to'ards the last I met up with a thing 'r two wo'th knowing. 'Twas