ed--_I must go!_ In a day--two days--a
week--you shall know and understand."

With a low, moaning cry Ethel tore herself from his embrace and reeled,
fainting into the arms of the priest, while her husband, white lipped,
followed swiftly after the Indian girl who had already gained the end
of the aisle.

But a few moments had elapsed since Jeanne Lacombie had burst into the
room. Moments so tense--so laden with terrible portent--that, although
every person in the room heard each spoken word, brains failed to grasp
their significance; and Appleton, from his bench near the door, as he
saw Bill Carmody turn from his fainting wife, for the first time
doubted his sincerity.

Men were on their feet now, gazing incredulously at the boss, who,
looking neither to the left nor to the right, strode rapidly down the
aisle.

Scarcely knowing what he did, with the one thought uppermost in his
mind, to stop the foreman and bring him to his senses, Appleton leaped
the intervening benches and, slamming the heavy door, shot the stout
bar.

With a roar of anger Bill seized a heavy split log bench, sending a
couple of lumber-jacks tumbling among the feet of their fellows, and
whirling it high above his head, drove it crashing through the door.

The bar snapped like a toothpick, the heavy panel split in half and
dropped sidewise, and without a moment's hesitation Bill grasped the
half-breed girl about the waist and swung her through the splintered
aperture.

Turning, he swept the room with a glare of defiance. For a moment men
looked into the narrowed eyes; and then, as the eyes of the boss rested
for an instant upon the inert form of his wife, they saw the defiant
glare melt into a look of compassion and misery such as none had ever
seen in human eyes.

Then his shoulders stiffened, his jaw squared, and without a word he
stepped through the shattered door and disappeared in the black
drizzle.

CHAPTER XLIX

ON THE RIVER

That Blood River Jack's fear for the safety of Jeanne was well founded
was borne home to Bill Carmody in the story the girl poured into his
ears as they pushed on in the direction of Moncrossen's camp.

The night was jet black, and Bill marveled at the endurance of the girl
and the unfailing sagacity with which she led the way.

The honeycombed river ice sagged toward the middle of the stream, and
the water from the melting snow followed this depression, leaving the
higher edges comparatively dry