“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 heard—­in spite of my better judgment—­in spite even of what I have seen, in making me believe that, possibly you had been misunderstood; had been painted blacker than you really are.  At times I almost believed in you; but I have since learned enough from the mouths of your own Indians to convince me of my folly.  And after what I saw last night—­” She paused in very horror of the thought, and MacNair glared into her outraged eyes.

“You saw that?  You stood by and witnessed the ruination of my Indians?  Deliberately watched them changed from sober, industrious, simple-hearted children of the wild into a howling, drink-crazed horde of beasts that thirsted for blood—­tore at each other’s throats—­and, in the frenzy of their madness, burned their own homes, and their winter’s supplies and provisions?  You stood by and saw them glutted with the whiskey from your storehouse—­by your own paid creatures——­”