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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"The Spirit of the Border"

There was in it none
of the brutality and ferocity which marked his brother's visage.
Simon Girty appeared keen, forceful, authoritative, as, indeed, he
must have been to have attained the power he held in the
confederated tribes. His companions presented wide contrasts.
Elliott was a small, spare man of cunning, vindictive aspect; McKee
looked, as might have been supposed from his reputation, and Deering
was a fit mate for the absent Girty. Simon appeared to be a man of
some intelligence, who had used all his power to make that position
a great one. The other renegades were desperadoes.
"Where's Heckewelder?" asked Girty, curtly, as he stopped before the
missionaries.
"He started out for the Indian towns on the Muskingong," answered
Edwards. "But we have had no word from either him or Zeisberger."
"When d'ye expect him?"
"I can't say. Perhaps to-morrow, and then, again, maybe not for a
week."
"He is in authority here, ain't he?"
"Yes; but he left me in charge of the Mission. Can I serve you in
any way?"
"I reckon not," said the renegade, turning to his companions. They
conversed in low tones for a moment. Presently McKee, Elliott and
Deering went toward the newly erected teepees.
"Girty, do you mean us any ill will?" earnestly asked Edwards. He
had met the man on more than one occasion, and had no hesitation
about questioning him.


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