"He's clothed in white, as any one walking in this snow is bound to
be, but I could tell at the first glimpse that it was none other than
our friend, Black Rifle."
"Coming to us for refuge, and so our fort is well named."
"Not for refuge. Black Rifle has taken care of himself too long in the
wilderness to be at a loss at any time. I suspect that he has
something of importance to tell us or he would not come at all."
At the command of Colden the great gate was thrown open that the
strange rover might enter in all honor, and as he came in, apparently
oblivious of the storm, his eyes gleamed a little at the sight of
Willet, his friend.
"You've come to tell us something," said the hunter.
"So I have," said Black Rifle.
"Brush off the snow, warm yourself by the fire, and then we'll
listen."
"I can tell it now. I don't mind the snow. I saw from a distance the
great fire last night, when the camp of the French and Indians
burned. It was clever to destroy their huts and lodges, and I knew at
once who did it. Such a thing as that could not have happened without
you having a hand in it, Dave Willet. I watched to see what the
French and Indians would do, and I followed them in their hurried
retreat into the north.
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