made his last plans as he walked swiftly through the forest with Baree
under his arm. He would send Pierrot at once for Father Grotin at his
mission seventy miles to the west. He would marry Nepeese--yes, marry
her! That would tickle Pierrot. And he would be alone with Nepeese
while Pierrot was gone for the missioner.

This thought flamed McTaggart's blood like strong whisky. There was no
thought in his hot and unreasoning brain of what Nepeese might say--of
what she might think. His hand clenched, and he laughed harshly as
there flashed on him for an instant the thought that perhaps Pierrot
would not want to give her up. Pierrot! Bah! It would not be the first
time he had killed a man--or the second.

McTaggart laughed again, and he walked still faster. There was no
chance of his losing--no chance for Nepeese to get away from him.
He--Bush McTaggart--was lord of this wilderness, master of its people,
arbiter of their destinies. He was power--and the law.

The sun was well up when Pierrot, standing in front of his cabin with
Nepeese, pointed to a rise in the trail three or four hundred yards
away, over which McTaggart had just appeared.

"He is coming."

With a face which had aged since last night he looked at Nepeese. Again
he saw the dark glow in her eyes and the deepening red of her parted
lips, and his heart was sick again with dread. Was it possible--

She turned on him, her eyes shining, her voice trembling.