ld he be blamed for not altering his
plans to fight _your_ battles."

MacNair laughed. "The idea of Lapierre fighting _my_ battles is,
indeed, unique. And you may be sure that Lapierre will not fight his
own battles--as long as he can find others to fight them for him. Miss
Elliston, this attack _was_ anticipated. Lapierre knew to a certainty
that when my Indians read the signs, and learned what had happened
there on the shore of Snare Lake, their vengeance would not be
delayed." He looked straight into the eyes of the girl. "Did you arm
your Indians?"

"I did not!" answered Chloe. "I brought no guns."

"Then where did your Indians get their rifles?"

"Well, really, Mr. MacNair, I cannot tell you. Possibly at the same
place your Indians got theirs. The Indians, who have come to me here
are hunters and trappers. Is it so extraordinary that men who are
hunters should own guns?"

"Your ignorance would be amusing, if it were not tragic!" retorted
MacNair. And picking up the gun which the wounded Indian had dropped,
held it before the eyes of the girl. "The hunters of the North, Miss
Elliston, do not equip themselves with Mausers."

"With Mausers!" cried the girl. "You mean----"

"I mean just this," broke in MacNair, "that your Indians were armed to
kill men, not animals. With, or without, your knowledge or sanction,
your Indians have been supplied with the best rifles obtainable. Your
school is Lapierre's fort!" Thrusting the rifle into the hands of the
girl, he brushed past her and with difficulty made his way through the
intervening room to the outer door, which he threw open.

Chloe followed. Outside the firing continued with undiminished
intensity, but the girl was conscious of no sense of fear. Her eyes
swept the room, flooded now by the glare of the flaring flames. Beside
the stove stood Big Lena, an ax gripped tightly in her strong hands.
The remaining Indian lay upon the floor, firing slowly through a
loophole punched in the chinking. At the doorway MacNair turned, and
in the strong light Chloe noticed that his face was haggard and drawn
with pain.

"I thank you." he said, touching his bandaged chest, "for your nursing.
It has probably saved my life."

"Come back! They will kill you!" MacNair ignored her warning. "You
have one redeeming feature," cried the girl. "At least, you are as
brutal toward yourself as toward others."

MacNair laughed harshly. "I thank you," he said and