Part 3 (2/2)

”I saw Garay, the spy,” he replied in the same tone.

”And the man at the little table was the captain of the slave s.h.i.+p on which you were taken?”

”The same.”

”It bodes ill, Dagaeoga. You must watch.”

”I will, Tayoga.”

The crowd in the great room of the George Inn increased and the young group remained, eager to watch it. It was a reflex of the life in the colonies, at the seat of conflict, and throbbing with all the emotions of a great war that enveloped nearly the whole civilized world. A burly fellow, dressed as a teamster, finally made his voice heard above the others.

”I tell you men,” he said, ”that we must give up Albany! Our army has been cut to pieces! Montcalm is advancing with twenty thousand French regulars, and swarms of Indians! They control all of Lake George as well as Champlain! Hundreds of settlers have already fallen before the tomahawk, and houses are burning along the whole border! I have it from them that have seen the fires.”

There was a sudden hush in the crowd, followed by an alarmed murmur. The man's emphasis and his startling statements made an impression.

”Go on, Dobbs! Tell us about it!” said one.

”What do you know?” asked another.

He stood up, a great tall man with a red face.

”My cousin has been in the north,” he said, ”and he's seen rangers, some that have just escaped from the Indians, barely saving their hair. He heard from them that the King of France has sent a big army to Canada, and that another just as big is on the way. It won't be a week before you see the French flag from the hills of Albany, and wise men are already packing ready to go to New York.”

There was another alarmed hush.

”This fellow must be stopped,” said Colden. ”He'll start a panic.”

”Dagaeoga has the gift of words,” whispered a voice in Robert's ear, ”and now is the time to use it.”

Nothing more was needed. Robert was on fire in an instant, and, standing upon his chair, asked for attention.

”Your pardon a moment, Mr. Dobbs,” he said, ”if I interrupt you.”

”Why it's only a boy!” a man exclaimed.

”A boy, it's true,” said Robert, who now felt himself the center of all eyes, and who, as usual, responded with all his faculties to such an opportunity, ”but I was present at the Battle of Ticonderoga, and perhaps I've a chance to correct a few errors into which our friend, Mr.

Dobbs, has fallen.”

”What are those errors?” asked the man in a surly tone, not relis.h.i.+ng his loss of the stage.

”I'll come to them promptly,” said Robert in his mellowest tones.

”They're just trifles, Mr. Dobbs, but still trifles should be corrected.

I stood with the French army in the battle, and I know something about its numbers, which are about one-sixth of what Mr. Dobbs claims them to be.”

”What were you doing with the French?”

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