They will never think the liquor grew there. like a blackberry or a
chestnut, though the place IS called Whiskey Centre!"
"It is hard enough to know that a family has deserved such a name,
without being reminded of it by those that call themselves friends,"
answered the girl pointedly, after a pause of near a minute, though
she spoke in sorrow rather than in anger.
In an instant the bee-hunter was at pretty Margery's side, making
his peace by zealous apologies and winning protestations of respect
and concern. The mortified girl was soon appeased; and, after
consulting together for a minute, they went to the canoe to
communicate to the husband and wife what they had seen.
"The whiskey after all is likely to prove our worst enemy," said the
bee-hunter as he approached. "It would seem that in moving the
barrels some of the liquor has escaped, and the nose of an Injin is
too quick for the odor it leaves, not to scent it."
"Much good may it do them," growled Gershom--"they've lost me that
whiskey, and let them long for it without gettin' any, as a
punishment for the same. My fortun' would have been made could I
only have got them two barrels as far as Fort Dearborn before the
troops moved!"
"The BARRELS might have been got there, certainly," answered le
Bourdon, so much provoked at the man's regrets for the destroyer
which had already come so near to bringing want and ruin on himself
and family, as momentarily to forget his recent scene with pretty
Margery; "but whether anything would have been IN them is another
question.
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