thing about this Angus did not understand. At night in
the Lone Lands, among a thousand hill pockets and shoestring draws,
it would be only a millionth chance that would bring a man and woman
together unexpectedly. He pushed home questions, for he was not one to
slough any of the responsibilities that belonged to him as father of
his family.

A fat and waistless Indian woman appeared in the tent flap as the
three approached the light. She gave a grunt of surprise and pointed
first at Morse and then at the girl.

The trader's hands were covered with blood, his shirt-sleeve soaked in
it. Stains of it were spattered over the girl's clothes and face.

The Scotchman looked at them, and his clean-shaven upper lip grew
straight, his whole face stern. "What'll be the meanin' o' this?" he
asked.

Morse turned to the girl, fastened his eyes on her steadily, and
waited.

"Nae lees. I'll hae the truth," Angus added harshly.

"I did it--with my hunting-knife," the daughter said, looking straight
at her father.

"What's that? Are ye talkin' havers, lass?"

"It's the truth, Father."

The Scotchman swung on the trader with a swift question, at the end of
it a threat. "Why would she do that? Why? If you said one word to my
lass--"

"No, Father. You don't understand. I found a camp of whiskey-traders,
and I stole up and smashed four-five kegs. I meant to slip away, but
this man caught me. When he rushed at me I was afraid--so I slashed at
him with my knife. We fought."

"You fought," her father repeated.

"He didn't know I was a girl--not at first."

The buffalo-hunter passed that point. "You went to this trader's camp
and ruined his goods?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

The slim girl faced her judge steadily with eyes full of apprehension.
"Fergus," she said in a low voice, "and my people."

"What aboot them?"

"These traders break the law. They sell liquor to Fergus and to--"

"Gin that's true, is it your business to ram-stam in an' destroy ither
folks' property? Did I bring you up i' the fear o' the Lord to slash
at men wi' your dirk an' fight wi' them like a wild limmer? I've been
ower-easy wi' you. Weel, I'll do my painfu' duty the nicht, lass." The
Scotchman's eyes were as hard and as inexorable as those of a hanging
judge.

"Yes," the girl answered in a small voice. "That's why he brought me
home instead of taking me to his own camp. You're to whip me."

Angus McRae was not used to having the law and the judgment