Father Orin, like every one else, was thinking of this, a day or so
later, as he rode along the forest path. There was a heavy weight in his
merciful breast as he looked across the river. Over there, beyond those
spectral cottonwoods and on the banks of its tributary, the Wabash, the
white and the red races were about to meet in a supreme struggle now
close at hand. He had just been told that Joe Daviess had offered his
sword, and the news had brought the public trouble home to his own
heart, for he loved the man.
And thus it was that, seeing Tommy Dye riding toward him, he had only a
grave word of greeting, without any of the merry banter that the
adventurer had come to expect. He stopped, however, feeling that Tommy
had something to say, but he listened in rather abstracted silence, till
Tommy spoke of having been to see the Sisters in order to tell them
good-by.
"For I am going to Tippecanoe, too. I leave to-night. The general can't
go. It looks like the wound from that infernal duel with Dickinson never
would get well. But I like to be where things are stirring, and I am
going, anyhow.
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