It was Captain Bowen who called out, driving his spirited team alongside of the emigrant wagon as he did so.

"After ye'd gone, it come to me all of a sudden that ye'd stand a chance of meetin' an old friend of mine. He is an Iroquois Injun of the Mohawk tribe an' his name is High Horse. General Putnam gave him this knife fer doin' some thin' or other one time, an' High Horse gave it to me 'cause I shared powder an' bullets with him when he was out, an' durin' the war at that. Seems t' me naow, tew, that I pulled him through some sick spell or somethin'. Any haow he give me the knife. If ye see him tell him ye know me. I heerd that he was livin' up some crick emptyin' into the Ohio."

Almost before the boys could thank the Captain he had turned and was gone, having thrown a long-bladed knife with a curiously carved ivory handle--a relic of some Dutch trader perhaps--to Ree.

"I say! Maybe ye didn't hear as haow Jim Huson was able to git about t'day! Ye'll be hungry enough fer news I was thinkin', before ye air back agin!"

John waved his old cap and Ree shouted their thanks again, but if Captain Bowen heard he gave no heed; at least he did not look back.

At noon a halt was made at the roadside, close to a running brook, while the horse was fed and watered and the boys ate their lunch. They would not have exchanged places with a prince, now that they felt themselves fairly launched upon their long-talked-of enterprise. Their hopes were unblemished by any unhappy circ.u.mstance and the fine weather was as a tonic to their already lively spirits. They carefully examined their goods and wagon to see that all was in proper order before starting on, resolving to be attentive to every detail and let no mishap come to them through carelessness. On the road, too, they exercised care, remembering that a steady gait and not too fast, was necessary. And so the first day of their journey was pa.s.sed most pleasantly.

For the novelty of it the boys camped out the first night, beneath a clump of beech trees, and no two young men ever more fully enjoyed a campfire's cheerful blaze.

Another and another day pa.s.sed. It was in the afternoon of the fourth day of the journey that John stopped whistling "Yankee Doodle" to inquire of his companion who was taking his turn riding on the box:

"Ree, do you know much about this Eagle tavern where we are to stop to-night? I just happened to remember a story that was told in war time, that the house was haunted."

"Haunted by Redcoat spies, I guess," Ree answered. "The whole kit of them there at that time were the worst kind of Tories at heart, I have heard folks say, and Captain Bowen said something about it, too, you remember?

But I guess they are all right now--got on the right side of the fence after the war was over."

"I don't mind Indians or wild animals--fact is, I'm just hankering to kill a bear, but I don't want anything to do with spooks or witches or anything of that sort," returned John. "I'll keep my eyes wide open for ghosts and robbers if we stay at the Eagle, at any rate."

"There is probably more reason to be afraid of bed-bugs," laughed Ree. "I don't believe the Eagle is so very bad a place or Captain Bowen would not have marked it as a stopping place. There was a man robbed and murdered there, it is true; but that was years ago, and needn't worry us."

So with talk of their journey and the progress they hoped to make in view of the necessity of reaching the wilderness before winter set in severely, the lads whiled away the time. It was nearly sundown when, pa.s.sing through a woods which skirted both sides of the road, they found the Eagle tavern in view.

"See any spooks about?" asked Ree with a smile.

"No," said John quite seriously, "but I did see a mighty wicked looking man peeking out of the window of the barn across the road from the tavern there, just now. He seemed to be wanting to find out who we were and what sort of an outfit we had, without being seen by us. Without joking, Ree, I tell you I don't like it!"

CHAPTER IV.

The Man Under the Bed.

The Eagle tavern was a long, low structure and stood close beside the highway, on the opposite side of which was the weather-beaten log and frame barn to which John had referred. Near the tavern was a well and an old-fashioned sweep towering above it. At the roadside there was a moss-covered log trough at which horses were watered. An air of loneliness, such as is noticed about old, deserted houses, whose door-yards have grown up to rank weeds and briars, hung over the tavern, and the deep shadows cast by the setting sun heightened this effect.

Little wonder is it that a feeling of depression came over the young travelers as they approached.

No other houses were near the tavern and guests were evidently few. The road which pa.s.sed it was not a main thoroughfare, and no stage-coach made the Eagle a regular stopping-place. It may have been a handsome; much-frequented place at one time, but those days had long since departed.

Up to the watering-trough Ree drove, however, and unreined the horse, that it might drink.

"It does look kind of creepy around here," he remarked in an undertone; "but put on a bold front, John, we are going to stay, just to prove to ourselves that we are not afraid."

"I would a great deal rather camp out," John frankly confessed, "but you are the captain, Ree. I can stand it if you can."

A skulking fellow of about thirty years, none the handsomer for having lost nearly all his front teeth, came to help put up their horse when the boys had made their wants known inside the tavern. No unusual thing occurred, however, and the young travelers had shaken off the gloomy feelings which the lonely place inspired by the time their supper was ready. As they were by themselves at the table, a man whom Ree had not seen before approached and took a chair nearby, tilting back against the wall and calmly surveying them.

John kicked Ree's shins under the table. It was not, perhaps, a polite way of imparting the information that this was the fellow he had seen peering out of the barn, but Ree understood perfectly.

Having eyed the boys for a minute or two, the stranger said, in a gruff, indifferent tone:

"Good evenin'."

"Good evening, sir," spoke Ree, and John's voice repeated the words like an echo.

"Traveled far?" growled the stranger.

"Far enough for one day," Ree answered, little inclined to engage in conversation with the man, for the fellow's appearance was far from favorable. The sneaking glance of his eyes, his unshaved face and uncouth dress, half civilized, half barbarian, gave him an air of lawlessness, though except for these things he might have been considered handsome.

For a minute the stranger did not speak, and John suppressed a laugh as he saw with what cool unconcern Ree returned the fellow's stare whenever he looked at them.

"Don't show off your smartness, bub," sharply spoke the man at last, as he fully comprehended that Ree had purposely given him an evasive answer, "I asked a civil enough question."

"And got a civil answer," Ree quickly replied.

"I see you are emigrating," the stranger went on, trying to make his coa.r.s.e voice sound friendly. "I just had in mind puttin' a flea in your ear. Because it is the wrong time of year to be goin' west, in the first place, and the woods are full of Indians and the roads alive with cutthroats, in the second place. If I was you young shavers I'd sell out and wait a year or two, or till next spring anyhow, before goin' any further. I s'pose you have a lot of goods in your cart; goin' to do some tradin' with the Mingoes, maybe."

John p.r.i.c.ked up his ears at this reference to the nature of their cart's contents, but waited for Ree to speak. This the latter did at once, respectfully but firmly.

"We are much obliged for your advice and the interest you take in us, but we expect to be able to take care of ourselves both on the road and in the woods. Aren't you the man we saw in the barn as we were coming up?"

The question was an experimental thrust. Ree wished to learn whether the fellow would give a reason for having spied upon them. The man looked at him searchingly before replying.

"I never clapped eyes on you till you come into this room," he coolly said, however. "What do you take me for? I was only goin' to tell you that I know a man that will buy your outfit if you want to sell!"

"Which we do not," said Ree with moderate emphasis.

"You would find a little ready money mighty handy; I don't s'pose you have any too much," the stranger replied with a.s.sumed carelessness.

"Say; tell us what you are trying to get at, will you!" John spoke up, with a show of spirit.

"Hold your horses, sonny!" the fellow growled. "You are almost too big for your breeches!"

"Well what do you take us for! Maybe you have some more questions to ask!" John exclaimed, and Ree smiled to see how heated he had become.

The stranger relapsed into silence, and presently arose and strolled away.

Having finished their supper, the boys went into the general sitting-room of the tavern, a long room in one end of which there was a bar, and sat down by themselves to talk. As their conversation flagged, Ree drew from his belt beneath his coat, the ivory handled knife Captain Bowen had been at such pains to give them. In an idle, listless way he began stropping the blade on his boot-leg.

A tall, lank man of fifty, with a thin, sharp face and nose, whom the lads had noticed sitting opposite them, reading a pamphlet of some kind, came nearer and seemed to take an unusual interest in the sharpening of the knife. His keen eyes watched every movement the blade made. Coming close up, he quietly said:

"If that ar ain't Cap. Bowen's knife over to Bruceville, he hes the mate to it! His'n is the only knife I ever see with a handle like that."

"Do you know Captain Bowen?" asked Ree, and as the man said he did, and told them who he was, both lads held out their hands which the newcomer shook cordially. It was like meeting someone from home; for the lanky individual was a peddler who had often visited at Captain Bowen's house and knew many of their friends.