In the middle room of the block-house something of a stirring nature seemed to be taking place. The new arrivals heard voices raised in shrill and angry dispute, and as they entered they saw two soldiers roughly pushing a man toward a door at one side of the room.

The prisoner was strenuously resisting, and clamoring to be set free, and in his struggles he revealed his face to Nathan. With a thrill of excitement the lad recognized the last man he could have expected to find here.

CHAPTER XIV

IN WHICH NATHAN FEIGNS SLUMBER TO SAVE HIS LIFE

"Unhand me, you ruffians!" cried the prisoner, as he continued to resist. "I protest against this brutal treatment. I protest against so unjust a sentence. I am not a spy. I am a non-combatant, and ent.i.tled to freedom. I was sent to this country on a legal and private matter by my employers, the firm of Sharswood & Feeman--"

Just then one of the soldiers, losing patience, struck the man a blow between the eyes that felled him to the floor. He was too stunned to make any further resistance or appeal, and his captors flung him into the room and slammed the door.

"Lad, that--that ain't the lawyer chap you spoke of?" inquired Barnabas, as he observed Nathan's agitation.

"The very same!" Nathan cried, excitedly "Noah Waxpenny, of London, who came to the Indian Queen that night!"

"The man who wanted information of your father and Major Langdon?"

G.o.dfrey asked, incredulously.

"Yes, that's the one," exclaimed Nathan. "I'm sure he can clear up the mystery. I must speak to him right away."

The lad was too excited to know what he was doing, and before his friends could check him he made a rush for the door of the inner room.

But the officer in command of the fort--an ill-featured sergeant--gave him a push that sent him reeling back.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "And you?" he added, turning to Barnabas and G.o.dfrey, and regarding them with angry suspicion.

Barnabas briefly explained, and the sergeant was somewhat mollified when he learned that the strangers were fugitives from Wyoming.

"It's all right," he grumbled, "but you had no call to interfere with my duty. Do you know that spy yonder?" The lad here spoke the name he gives himself--Noah Waxpenny.

"Spy?" exclaimed Barnabas.

"Yes, man; I said spy. I've just given him a trial, and to-morrow morning he hangs."

"What proof have you of his guilt?"

"Plenty," declared the sergeant. "Didn't he come riding by here a bit ago on his way up the river? And didn't we find a paper on him with the written name of Major Gerald Langdon, an officer in the British army?

There were two other names, but the first one was enough. It's plain as daylight that the man was sent out to spy the frontier forts along here.

I've found him guilty, and I'm going to hang him."

"You'll repent it, if you do," said Barnabas, quickly. "You'd better hold the man, an' report on his case. There ain't enough evidence to hang him, an' what's more, you haven't got the authority."

"Man, I have got the authority," thundered Sergeant Murdock, who was a hard-headed and obstinate Scotchman, very set in his ways, and with an exaggerated idea of his powers. "I'm in charge of this fort, and what I say is military law. The spy hangs at daybreak, and I'll report the case afterward--"

"Sir, you surely won't hang this prisoner?" interrupted Nathan. "He is not a spy, and I can prove it. Let me ask you one question. Was Richard Stanbury's name on that paper?"

"Yes," growled the sergeant, in a tone of sudden suspicion.

"Well, Captain Richard Stanbury is my father," said Nathan, "and he is an officer in Washington's army."

"Then you're the lad the spy was bound up the river to look for, according to the yarn he tells," exclaimed the sergeant. "There's something wrong here. I'm thinking I'll have to put you under arrest--aye, and your companions, too."

"Nonsense!" muttered Barnabas. "This foolery has gone far enough. Don't you know me any more, Murdock? Have you forgot Barnabas Otter, who was a private in your own company right here at Fort Hunter, after Braddock's defeat? Twenty years is a long time, but you ain't changed much--"

"Man, I'm glad to see you," cried the sergeant, his grizzled face breaking into a smile. "Aye, I recognize your features now. And can you vouch for this lad?"

"With my life," declared Barnabas. "An' what's more, I kin vouch that the man in there ain't a spy."

"You'll have to prove it to my satisfaction," said the sergeant, stiffly.

"I can't prove anything," replied Barnabas, "because it's a good bit of a mystery. But the plain facts of the matter, as far as we know, are these: That man in yonder, Noah Waxpenny, was sent over here from England on legal business--sent over to find Richard Stanbury an' also this Major Langdon. Whether there's any connection betwixt the two is not for me to say. But this much is certain; your prisoner ain't a spy.

An' you admit yourself that the fellow was comin' up the river to search for Captain Stanbury's son here. He must have learned that the Captain was dead or a prisoner, an' that the lad had gone to Wyoming--"

"And he expected to meet me among the returning fugitives," interrupted Nathan. "I'm sure that's the way of it."

"What does he want with you?" demanded Sergeant Murdock.

"I can't tell you any more than Barnabas has told you," replied Nathan.

"It's a legal and private matter--I am certain of that much. But if you will let me see Noah Waxpenny he may be able and willing to explain the mystery. Please let me speak to him at once, won't you, sir?"

"No, I won't," snapped the sergeant. "I don't want another rumpus around here. You haven't proved the man's innocence and the sentence of death still stands. And then there was a third name on that paper--"

"Let me see it, Murdock," interrupted Barnabas.

"I've no objection," replied the sergeant, after a brief hesitation. He and Barnabas withdrew privately to one corner of the room, and as the latter examined the paper that was put into his hands he started visibly and his eyes opened wide with astonishment. For some minutes he and the sergeant conversed earnestly in whispered tones, and then they came forward again.

"Lad," said Barnabas, "my old comrade has agreed to let us see the prisoner in the morning. We must have patience till then."

"Aye, you can see him in the morning," corroborated Sergeant Murdock, "but unless the interview clears up the mystery and proves the spy's innocence he hangs before breakfast. I'm a man of my word and you can count on what I say."

Darkness was now coming on rapidly, and while the sergeant went into an adjoining room to fetch a candle Nathan found an opportunity of drawing Barnabas aside.

"You saw the paper?" he whispered. "Did it contain any clue?"

"None at all, lad."

"And whose was the third name?"

"I'll tell you again," Barnabas answered, evasively. "Have patience till morning, and I'm thinking all will turn out right. Meanwhile let the matter drop and don't speak. Hush! here comes Murdock back."

That was a long evening for Nathan. It taxed his patience sorely to think that he could not see the prisoner until morning--to know that the man locked up in the little guard-room could reveal, among other secrets, why Major Langdon had made such desperate efforts to get the papers that were buried under Captain Stanbury's cabin at Wyoming.

G.o.dfrey was almost equally curious, but Barnabas had forbidden both lads to allude to the matter openly, and the circ.u.mstances were such that private speech between the three was impossible.

The capture and examination of Mr. Noah Waxpenny had delayed supper, and after the meal was over Sergeant Murdock unbent and became quite friendly. He showed his guests around the interior of the fort, pointing out the strong features of the stockade, and exhibiting with pride the stores of lead and powder, casks of fresh and salt beef, and barrels of flour.

"I've got only a dozen men here," he said, "and that's as big a garrison as the fort has had for ten years past. But I'm expecting reinforcements up from Harris's Ferry any time now, and the settlers are threatening to come in on account of the rumor that Butler's force will be marching down the river from Wyoming."