The Phantom of the River | Page 2

was--ruther," replied Kenton, with a grin over the
surprise of his older companion. "That chap sneaked onto the boat last
night, believing he had a chance to clean us all out. Of course, I
knowed what was up, but The Panther made a powerful big mistake.
He got mixed up with that darkey you seed--his name is Jethro
Juggens--and you may shoot me if the darkey didn't throw him down
and hold him fast till we made him prisoner."
Boone had heard something of this extraordinary exploit, but he looked
questioningly at Kenton, as though he could hardly credit the fact.
"It's all as true as Gospel. We kept Wa-on-mon, which the same is The
Panther, till late that night, when Mr. Ashbridge and Altman and me
went over in a canoe to the other flatboat, which the Shawanoes had
cleaned out, to even up accounts with 'em. Sime Girty was with 'em,
but they left afore we got to the craft, and we sot it afire and come
back."
"I seed the light last night, but didn't know what it was."
"While we was gone, Mr. Altman's darter, Agnes (she ain't much more
than a child), felt so sorry for The Panther, thinking, too, that I meant to
shove him under, that she cut the cords that bound him--"
"What a fool of a gal!"
"Dan'l," sternly interrupted Kenton, laying his hand on the arm of his
friend, "you mustn't speak that way of Tom Altman's child. There ain't
a finer, smarter, purtier, sweeter gal in all Ohio or Kaintuck than little
Agnes Altman. She made a powerful big mistake, but she done it in the
kindness of her heart, and, Dan'l, you and me knows there ain't many
such mistakes made. But that little gal showed her pluck when she
follered up Wa-on-mon, snatched the knife from his hand when he
warn't looking, and warned young Ashbridge in time to save him. Wal,
The Panther made a rush to jump overboard, but he happened to step
onto that darkey again, so he was nabbed."
"But what's become of The Panther?" asked Boone, hoping to hear that

the career of this terrible scourge of the border was ended.
Kenton rested his long, formidable flintlock rifle on the log at his side,
clasped his thin iron fingers over one knee, the foot of which was raised
from the ground, and looked thoughtfully among the trees in front. His
coonskin cap was shoved back from his forehead, and a frown settled
on it, and his thin lips were compressed for a few moments before he
spoke.
"Dan'l, things haven't turned out altogether to suit me. As you know,
the flatboat kept on down the river till it reached the clearing this
morning. Afore we went ashore, I diskivered that Girty and several
varmints was in the cabin. They knowed we was going there, and they
meant to wait until we got inside, when they'd clean us all out. While
we was man[oe]uvring round like, so as to trade places with 'em, a
powerful qu'ar thing happened."
"There's a good many queer things happening in this part of the world,
Simon," curtly remarked Boone.
"Two of them Shawanoes was shot--one killed or the other hit
hard--and in both cases it was done by that darkey, Jethro Juggens. He's
a big, strong, simple chap, that hates work worse nor pizen, but he
knows how to shoot that gun of his in a way that'll open your eyes."
"But what about The Panther?" asked Boone, feeling more interest in
him than in Jethro Juggens. Kenton's brow clouded again as he made
answer:
"Consarn The Panther! I forgot about him. It was agreed that him and
me would meet, all by ourselves, in the woods near the clearing, and
settle that account between us. If I come back all right, Girty and the
varmints was to leave the cabin. I come back and they left."
"And you evened up matters with The Panther?" exclaimed Boone,
with a glow of satisfaction, in strong contrast to the scornful disgust on
the rugged countenance of his friend.

"No; I went to the spot, but The Panther didn't show himself."
The readers of "Shod with Silence" will recall the circumstances.
Simon Kenton hurried to the appointed place of meeting, eager for the
encounter with Wa-on-mon, the famous war chief of the Shawanoes,
but the crafty miscreant had vanished, and nothing was seen of him.
"I never thought Wa-on-mon was a coward," bitterly repeated Kenton.
"And, Simon," said Boone, impressively, "don't make the mistake of
thinking so now; the reason why he didn't meet you wasn't that he was
afraid of you."
"What was it?"
"You know as well as me."
And so he did. The savage leader of the Shawanoes merely