until the second object of our visit was made known. Then he said, very quietly:

“Mayaro, the Mohican Sagamore, is in this vicinity.”

“How do you know that, Alsop?” asked Major Lockwood quickly.

“I saw him yesterday.”

“Here in Poundridge?”

Mr. Hunt glanced at Colonel Thomas, then with a slight colour mounting to his temples:

“The Sagamore was talking to one of the camp-women last evening — toward sundown on the Rock Hills. We were walking abroad for the air, my wife and I — — ” he turned to Major Lockwood: “Betsy whispered to me, ‘There is a handsome wench talking to an Indian!’