r the
time words were unnecessary. Murray was suffering intensely, but he
gave no sign. His great eyes, glowing with malevolent fire, watched
his victorious rival's movements, and a growing dread took possession
of him at his silence. He was searched, carefully searched. Then Kars
turned to the Indian as a thin haze of smoke crept in through the jamb
of a door which communicated with some other portion of the building.

"Get him outside," he said. "Pass that rope along."

The Indian uncoiled the rawhide rope from about his chest and brought
it across. Kars pointed at the fat figure of Murray.

"Get it about his feet so he can walk--that's all."

The Indian's appreciation rose. It was displayed in the fashion in
which he secured the trader. He erred generously on the side of
security. When he had finished Murray could hobble. There was no
chance of his escape.

The mist of smoke was deepening. The smell of burning was in the air.
The prisoner suddenly displayed alarm.

"For God's sake get out of here," he cried, in a sudden access of
panic. "The place is afire. The cellars under are full of explosives."

"That's how I figgered."

Kars' rejoinder was calmly spoken. He pointed at the half-breed.

"See to him, Charley," he said. And he waited till the Indian had
roughly dragged the wounded man into the open. Then he turned to the
panic-stricken trader.

"Now you," he commanded, and pointed at the doorway.

The night sky was lit with a dull red glow. A fierce fire was raging
on the rising ground beyond the Indian village. A great concourse of
dusky figures, men, and women, and pappooses were gathered at a safe
distance watching with awe the riot of that terror which haunted their
lives.

The whole village was awake, and had turned out to witness the calamity
which had befallen. Others had joined them. Those others who had
contemplated the destruction of the white invaders down in the river
gorge. Their crude minds held no clue to the cause of the thing which
had happened. Each and all wondered and feared at the non-appearance
of the men who led them. But none dared approach the fire. None
thought to extend help to its possible victims. Fire was a demon they
feared. It was a demon they were ready enough to invoke to aid them in
war. But his wrath turned against themselves was something to be
utterly dreaded. So they stood and watched--from afar off.

There were others watching, to