A glance from Neopa’s fawn-like eyes at the big man whom Reivers had brought home with him, and then her eyes sought the ground and she trembled. Tillie looked at Moir with interest. Save for the Snow-Burner, she had never seen so masterful a man. She looked at Reivers and saw that he was not watching her. So she smiled upon Moir slyly. She was the Snow-Burner’s slave; his will was her law. But since he refused to notice her smiles it would do no harm to smile upon a man like this Iron Hair—just a little, when the Snow-Burner was not looking.
Moir read the smile wrong and spoke sharply to Reivers.
“Take the young one outside for two minutes. I’ve a word to say to this one.”
To his surprise Reivers rose without demur, thrust Neopa out before him, and dropped the flap.
“Listen,” whispered Moir swiftly in her own tongue to Tillie, “we will put his man out of the way. It is easily done. Then you will go with me, you and the young one, and you will be first in my tepee and the young one your slave. Speak quickly. We will be on the trail in an hour.”
Still smiling invitingly, Tillie shook her head.
“The Snow-Burner is the master,” she said seriously. “I will slay the man who does him harm. I can not do what he does not wish. I can not go away from him.”
“But when he is dead, fool, he can have no wish.”
The smile went from Tillie’s full lips and she took a step toward the opening.
“Stop,” laughed Moir softly. “I merely wished to know if you are a true woman. All right, old sonny!” he called. “Come on in.”