n their blankets. And Big Lena, whose pale-blue, fishlike
eyes stared first at one and then the other from out a face absolutely
devoid of expression.

Suddenly a fierce, consuming anger welled into the girl's heart, and
words fell from her lips in a veritable hiss of scorn: "Have you come
to kill me, too?"

"By God, it would be a good thing for the North if I should kill you!"

"A good thing for MacNair, you mean!" taunted the girl. "Yes, I think
it would. Well, there is nothing to hinder you. Of course, you would
have to kill these, also." She indicated Big Lena and the Indians.
"But what are mere lives to you?"

"They are nothing to me when the fate of my people is at stake! And at
this very moment their fate--their whole future--the future of their
children and their children's children--is at stake, as it has never
been at stake before. Many times in my life have I faced crises: but
never such a crisis as this. And always I have won, regardless of
cost--but the cost only _I_ have ever known."

His eyes glared, and he seemed a madman in his berserk rage. He drove
a huge fist into his upturned palm and fairly shouted his words: "I am
MacNair! And if there is a God in heaven, I will win! From this
moment, it is my life or Lapierre's! Since last night's outrage there
can be no truce--no quibbling--no parleying--no half-way measures! My
friends are my friends, and his friends are my enemies! The war is
on--and it will be a fight to the finish. A fight that may well
disrupt the North!" He shook his clenched fist before the face of the
girl. "I have taken the man-trail! I am MacNair! And at the end of
that trail will lie a dead man--myself or Pierre Lapierre!"

"And at the beginning of the trail lie _two_ dead men," sneered Chloe.
"Those who started for the timber----"

"And, by God, if necessary, the trail will be _paved with dead men_!
For Lapierre, the day of reckoning is at hand."

Chloe took a step forward, and with blazing eyes stood trembling with
anger before the man. "And how about _your own_ day of reckoning? You
have told me that I am a fool; but it is you who are the fool! You
killer of helpless men! You debaucher of women and children! You
trader in souls! As you say, the day of reckoning is at hand--not for
Lapierre, but for _you_! Until this day you have not taken me
seriously. I _have_ been a fool--a blind, trusting fool. You have
succeeded, in spite of what I have hear