CHAPTER XV
"ARREST THAT MAN!"
Seconds passed--tense, portentous seconds--as the two stood facing eachother over the dead ashes of the little fire. Seconds in which thewhite drawn features of the man engraved themselves indelibly uponChloe Elliston's brain. She noted the knotted muscles of the clenchedhands and the glare of the sunken eyes. Noted, also, the cringingfear-stricken forms of the two Indians, who had awakened and laycowering upon their blankets. And Big Lena, whose pale-blue, fishlikeeyes stared first at one and then the other from out a face absolutelydevoid of expression.
Suddenly a fierce, consuming anger welled into the girl's heart, andwords fell from her lips in a veritable hiss of scorn: "Have you cometo 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 thinkit would. Well, there is nothing to hinder you. Of course, you wouldhave 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 atthis very moment their fate--their whole future--the future of theirchildren and their children's children--is at stake, as it has neverbeen at stake before. Many times in my life have I faced crises: butnever such a crisis as this. And always I have won, regardless ofcost--but the cost only _I_ have ever known."
His eyes glared, and he seemed a madman in his berserk rage. He drovea huge fist into his upturned palm and fairly shouted his words: "I amMacNair! And if there is a God in heaven, I will win! From thismoment, it is my life or Lapierre's! Since last night's outrage therecan be no truce--no quibbling--no parleying--no half-way measures! Myfriends are my friends, and his friends are my enemies! The war ison--and it will be a fight to the finish. A fight that may welldisrupt the North!" He shook his clenched fist before the face of thegirl. "I have taken the man-trail! I am MacNair! And at the end ofthat 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 withanger before the man. "And how about _your own_ day of reckoning? Youhave told me that I am a fool; but it is you who are the fool! Youkiller of helpless men! You debaucher of women and children! Youtrader in souls! As you say, the day of reckoning is at hand--not forLapierre, but for _you_! Until this day you have not taken meseriously. I _have_ been a fool--a blind, trusting fool. You havesucceeded, in spite of what I have heard--in spite of my betterjudgment--in spite even of what I have seen, in making me believe that,possibly you had been misunderstood; had been painted blacker than youreally are. At times I almost _believed_ in you; but I have sincelearned enough from the mouths of your own Indians to convince me of myfolly. And after what I saw last night--" She paused in very horrorof 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 hordeof beasts that thirsted for blood--tore at each other's throats--and,in the frenzy of their madness, burned their own homes, and theirwinter's supplies and provisions? You stood by and saw them gluttedwith the whiskey from your storehouse--by your own paid creatures----"
"Whiskey from my storehouse!" The girl's voice rose to a scream, andMacNair interrupted her savagely:
"Aye, whiskey from your storehouse! Brought in by Lapierre, and byLapierre cunningly and freely given out to my Indians."
"You are crazy! You are mad! You do not know what you are saying?But if you _do_ know, you are the most consummate liar on the face ofthe earth! Of all things absurd! Is it possible that you hope by anysuch preposterous and flimsy fabrication to escape the punishment whichwill surely and swiftly be meted out to you? Will, you tell that tothe Mounted? And will you tell it to the judge and the jury? Whatwill they say when I have told my story, and have had it corroboratedby your own Indians--those Indians who have fled to my school to seek ahaven of refuge from your tyranny? I have my manifest. My goods wereinspected and passed by the Mounted----"
"Inspected and passed! And why? Because they were _your_ goods, andthe men of the Mounted have yet to suspect you. The inspection wasperfunctorily made. And as for the manifest--I did not say it was yourwhiskey. I said, 'whiskey from your storehouse.' It was Lapierre'swhiskey. And he succeeded in running it in by the boldest, and at thesame time the cleverest and safest method--disguised as your freight.Tell me this: Did you check your pieces upon their arrival at yourstorehouse?"
"No; Lapierre did that, or LeFroy."
"And Lapierre, having first ascertained that I was far on the cariboutrail, succeeded in slipping the whiskey to my Indians, but he----"
"Mr. Lapierre was with me! Accuse him and you accuse me, also. Hebrought me here because I wished to see for myself the condition ofyour Indians--the condition of which I had so often heard."
"Was LeFroy, also, with you?"
"LeFroy was away upon a mission, and that mission was to capture twoothers of your ilk--two whiskey-runners!"
MacNair laughed harshly. "Good LeFroy!" he exclaimed in derision."Great God, you are a fool! You yourself saw LeFroy and his satellitesrushing wildly for the shelter of the timber, when I unexpectedlyappeared among them." The light of exultation leaped into his eyes."I killed two of them, but LeFroy escaped. Lapierre timed his workwell. And had it not been that one of my Indians, who was a spy inLapierre's camp, learned of his plan and followed me across thebarrens, Lapierre would have had ample time, after the destruction ofmy fort, to have scattered my Indians to the four winds. When Ilearned of his plot, I forced the trail as I never had forced a trail,in the hope of arriving in time to prevent the catastrophe. I reachedthe fort too late to save my Indians from your human wolf-pack, theirhomes from the flames, and my buildings and my property fromdestruction. But, thank God, it is not too late to wreck my vengeanceupon the enemies of my people! For the trail is hot, and I will followit, if need be, to the end of the earth."
"Your love for your Indians is, indeed, touching. I witnessed ademonstration of that love last night, when you battered and kicked andhurled them about in their drunken and helpless condition. But, tellme, what will become of them while you are following your trail ofblood--the trail you so fondly imagine will terminate in the death ofLapierre, but which will, as surely and inevitably as justice itself,lead you to a prison cell, if not the gallows?"
MacNair regarded the girl almost fiercely. "I must leave my Indians,"he answered, "for the present, to their own devices. For the simplereason that I cannot be in two places at the same time."
"But their supplies were burned! They will starve!" cried the girl."It would seem that one who really loved his Indians would have hisfirst thought for their welfare. But no; you prefer to take the trailand kill men; men who may at some future time tell their story upon thewitness-stand; a story that will not sound pretty in the telling, andthat will mark the crash of your reign of tyranny. 'Safety first' isyour slogan, and your Indians may starve while you murder men." Thegirl paused and suddenly became conscious that MacNair was regardingher with a strange look in his eyes. And at his next words she couldscarcely believe her ears.
"Will you care for my Indians?"
The question staggered her. "What!" she managed to gasp.
"Just what I said," answered MacNair gruffly. "Will you care for myIndians until such time as I shall return to them--until I have riddedthe North of Lapierre?"
"Do you mean," cried the astonished girl, "will I care for yourIndians--the same Indians who attacked my school--who only last nightfought like fiends among themselves, and burned their own home
s?"
"Just that!" answered MacNair. "The Indian who warned me of Lapierre'splot told me, also, of the arrival of your supplies--sufficient, hesaid, to feed the whole North. You will not lose by it. Name your ownprice, and I shall pay whatever you ask."
"Price!" flashed the girl. "Do you think I would take your gold--thegold that has been wrung from the hearts' blood of your Indians?"
"On your own terms, then," answered MacNair. "Will you take them?Surely this arrangement should be to your liking. Did you not tell meyourself, upon the occasion of our first meeting, that you intended touse every means in your power to induce my Indians to attend yourschool? That you would teach them that they are free? That they oweallegiance and servitude to no man? That you would educate and showthem they were being robbed and cheated and forced into serfdom? Thatyou intended to appeal to their better natures, to their manhood andwomanhood? I think those were your words. Did you not say that? Anddid you mean it? Or was it the idle boast of an angry woman?"
Chloe interrupted him. "Yes, I said that, and I meant it! And I meanit now!"
"You have your chance," growled MacNair, "I impose no restrictions. Ishall command them to obey you; even to attend your school, if youwish! You will hardly have time to do them much harm. As I told you,the North is not ready for your education. But I know that you arehonest. You are a fool, and the time is not far distant when youyourself will realize this; when you will learn that you have becomethe unwitting dupe of one of the shrewdest and most diabolicalscoundrels that ever drew breath. Again I tell you that some day youand I shall be friends! At this moment you hate me. But I know it isthrough ignorance you hate. I have small patience with your ignorance;but, also, at this moment you are the only person in all the North withwhom I would trust my Indians. Lapierre, from now on, will be pastcharming them. I shall see to it that he is kept so busy in the matterof saving his own hide that he will have scant time for deviltry."
Still Chloe appeared to hesitate. And through MacNair's mind flashedthe memory of the rapier-blade eyes that stared from out the dull goldframe of the portrait that hung upon the wall of the littlecottage---eyes that were the eyes of the girl before him.
"Well," he asked with evident impatience, "are you _afraid_ of theseIndians?"
The flashing eyes of the girl told him that the shot had struck home."No!" she cried. "I am not afraid! Send your Indians to me, if youwill; and when you send them, bid good-by to them forever."
MacNair nodded. "I will send them," he answered, and, turning abruptlyupon his heel, disappeared into the scrub.
The journey down the Yellow Knife consumed six days, and it was ajourney fraught with many hardships for Chloe Elliston, unaccustomed asshe was to trail travel. The little-used trail, following closely thebank of the stream, climbed low, rock-ribbed ridges, traversed blackspruce swamps, and threaded endlessly in and out of the scrub timber.Nevertheless, the girl held doggedly to the slow pace set by thecanoemen.
When at last, foot-sore and weary, with nerves a-jangle, and with everymuscle in her body protesting with its own devilishly ingenious acheagainst the overstrain of the long, rough miles and the chill misery ofdamp blankets, she arrived at the school, Lapierre was nowhere to befound. For the wily quarter-breed, knowing that MacNair wouldinstantly suspect the source of the whiskey, had, upon his arrival,removed the remaining casks from the storehouse, and conveyed them withall haste to his stronghold on Lac du Mort.
Upon her table in the cottage, Chloe found a brief note to the effectthat Lapierre had been, forced to hasten to the eastward to aid LeFroyin dealing with the whiskey-runners. The girl had scant time to thinkof Lapierre, however, for upon the morning after her arrival, MacNairappeared, accompanied by a hundred or more dejected and woe-begoneIndians. Despite the fact that Chloe had known them only as fierceroisterers she was forced to admit that they looked harmless andpeaceful enough, under the chastening effect of a week of starvation.
MacNair wasted no time, but striding up to the girl, who stood upon theveranda of her cottage, plunged unceremoniously into the business athand.
"Do not misunderstand me," he began gruffly. "I did not bring myIndians here to receive the benefits of your education, nor as a sop toyour anger, nor for any other reason than to procure for them food andshelter until such time as I myself can provide for them. If they weretrappers this would be unnecessary. But they have long since abandonedthe trap-lines, and in the whole village there could not be foundenough traps to supply one tenth of their number with the actualnecessities of life. I have sent runners to the young men upon thebarren grounds, with orders to continue the caribou kill and bring themeat to you here. I have given my Indians their instructions. Theywill cause you no trouble, and will be subject absolutely to yourcommands. And now, I must be on my way. I must pick up the trail ofLapierre. And when I return, I shall confront you with evidence thatwill prove to you beyond a doubt that the words I have spoken are true!"
"And I will confront you," retorted the girl, "with evidence that willplace you behind prison bars for the rest of your life!" Again Chloesaw in the grey eyes the twinkle that held more than the suspicion of asmile.
"I think I would make but a poor prisoner," the man answered. "But ifI am to be a prisoner I warn you that I will run the prison. I amMacNair!" Something in the man's look--he was gazing straight into hereyes with a peculiar intense gaze--caused the girl to start, while asudden indescribable feeling of fear, of helplessness before this man,flashed over her. The feeling passed in an instant and she sneeredboldly into MacNair's face.
"My, how you hate yourself!" she cried. "And how long is it, Mr. BruteMacNair--" was it fancy, or did the man wince at the emphasis of thename? She repeated, with added emphasis, "Mr. Brute MacNair, since youhave deemed it worth your while to furnish me with evidence? You toldme once, I believe, that you cared nothing for my opinion. Is itpossible that you hope at this late day to flatter me with my ownimportance?"
MacNair, in no wise perturbed, regarded her gravely. "No," he answered"It is not that, it is--" He paused as if at a loss for words. "I donot know why," he continued, "unless, perhaps, it is because--becauseyou have no fear of me. That you do not fear to take your life intoyour hands in defence of what you think is right. It may be that Ihave learned a certain respect for you. Certainly I do not pity you.At times you have made me very angry with your foolish blundering,until I remember it is honest blundering, and that some day you willknow the North, and will know that north of sixty, men are not measuredby your little rule of thumb. Always I have gone my way, caring nomore for the approval of others than I have for their hatred orscoffing. I know the North! Why should I care for the opinion ofothers? If they do not know, so much the worse for them. Thereputation of being a fool injures no one. Had I not been thought afool by the men of the Hudson Bay Company they would not have sold methe barren grounds whose sands are loaded with gold."
"And yet you said _I_ was a fool," interrupted Chloe. "According toyour theory, that fact should redound to my credit."
MacNair answered without a smile. "I did not say that _being_ a foolinjured no one. You _are_ a fool. Of your reputation I know nothing,nor care." He turned abruptly on his heel and walked to thestorehouse, leaving the girl, speechless with anger, standing upon theveranda of the cottage, as she watched his swinging shoulders disappearfrom sight around the corner of the log building.
With flushed face, Chloe turned toward the river, and instantly herattention centred upon the figure of a man, who swung out of the timberand approached across the clearing in long, easy strides. She regardedthe man closely. Certainly he was no one she had ever seen before. Hewas very near now, and at the distance of a few feet, paused and bowed,as he swept the Stetson from his head. The girl's heart gave a wildbound of joy. The man wore the uniform of the Mounted!
"Miss Elliston?" he asked.
"Yes," answered Chloe, as her glance noted the clear-cut, almost boy
ishlines of the weather-bronzed face.
"I am Corporal Ripley, ma'am, at your service. I happened on a FortRae Injun--a Dog Rib, a few days since, and he told me some kind of ayarn about a band of Yellow Knives that had attacked your post sometime during the summer. I couldn't get much out of him because hecould speak only a few words of English, and I can't speak any Dog Rib.Besides, you can't go much on what an Indian tells you. When you cometo sift down their dope, it generally turns out to be nine parts liesand the other part divided between truth, superstition, and guess-work.Constable Darling, at Fort Resolution, said he'd received no complaint,so I didn't hurry through."
With a swift glance toward the storehouse, into which MacNair haddisappeared, Chloe motioned the man into the cottage. "The--the attackwas nothing," she hastened to assure him. "But there is something--acomplaint that I wish to make against a man who is, and has been foryears, doing all in his power to debauch and brutalize the Indians ofthe North." The girl paced nervously up and down as she spoke, and shenoted that the youthful officer leaned forward expectantly, his wideboyish eyes narrowed to slits.
"Yes," he urged eagerly, "who is this man? And have you got theevidence to back your charge? For I take it from your words you intendto make a charge."
"Yes," answered Chloe. "I do intend to make a charge, and I have myevidence. The man is MacNair. Brute MacNair he is called----"
"What! MacNair of Snare Lake--Bob MacNair of the barren grounds?"
"Yes, Bob MacNair of the barren grounds." A moment of silence followedher words. A silence during which the officer's face assumed atroubled expression.
"You are sure there is no mistake?" he asked at length.
"There is no mistake!" flashed the girl. "With my own eyes I have seenenough to convict a dozen men!"
Even as she spoke, a form passed the window, and a heavy tread soundedon the veranda. Stepping quickly to the door, Chloe flung it open, andpointing toward MacNair, who stood, rifle in hand, cried; "Officer,arrest that man!"
Corporal Ripley, who had risen to his feet, stood gazing from one tothe other; while MacNair, speechless, stared straight into the eyes ofthe girl.