He instructed an Irish renegade and member of his cabinet,
called Nolin, to see to it that the prisoner was kept
under close arrest until her fate was decided upon--which
would probably be before morning. Nolin told some of
Katie's relatives to take charge of Dorothy. He himself,
to tell the truth, did not particularly care what became
of her one way or the other. Already this gentleman was
trying to hunt with the hounds and run with the hare.

Dorothy looked around the improvised court-house in the
vague hope of finding some one whom she might have known
in the days of peace, and whose intervention would count
for something. But alas! the vision of dark, cruel and
uncompromising faces that met her gaze, gave her no hope.
They had all been wrought up to such a high pitch of
excitement that murder itself was but an item in their
programme. Her heart sank within her, but still her mind
was active. She was not one of the sort who submit tamely
to what appears to be the inevitable. She came of a
fighting stock--of a race that had struggled much, and
prevailed.

Katie's male kinsman, the huge half-breed and the officious
redskin, again seized Dorothy and hurried her away,
followed by the curious, straggling mob. Arrived, at
length, at a long, low log-house on the outskirts of the
town, they hammered on the closed door for admittance.