“Neopa has run away—back to our people,” she said with a smile, as she turned back into the tepee. “Tillie does not run away,” she added as she disappeared.
Moir sat down on a sledge and cursed Reivers steadily for five minutes, but at every few words his eyes would stray back to the tepee which hid Tillie.
“We’ll go after her,” said Reivers. “We’ll bring her back.”
“Go after her!” snorted Moir. “She has half a night’s start on us. She’ll reach her people before we could get her. Do you think I want half the country following my trail.”
“I’ll go after her alone then,” insisted Reivers.
“Will you?” Moir’s eyes narrowed to slits. “I think not. Let me tell thee something, old son: he who goes this far on the home trail with Shanty Moir goes all the way. Understand? You’ll come with me or you’ll be wolf-meat out here on the snow. No; there’ll be no following of that kid. She’s gone. The other one’s here. There is no telling what tale the kid will spin when she meets people, or who will be down here looking for our trail. Therefore we are going to travel and travel quick. Have the squaw get food in a hurry. Get your dogs together. We’ll be on the trail in half an hour.”
Moir was masterful and dominant now. It was evident that he was more worried over the possibility of some one hearing of his whereabouts through Neopa than he was over the girl’s escape. He gave Reivers a second drink of liquor, since he seemed to need it to fully awaken him, and set about making ready for the trail.
“Eat plenty,” he commanded, when Tilly served the cold meat and tea. “The next meal you have will be about sundown.”
He tore down the tepee, packed the sledges and had the outfit ready for the start in an amazingly short while.
“Now, old son,” he said quietly, pointing to the rifle that lay uncovered on top of his sledge, “do ’ee take good look at her. She’s a good old Betsy and I’ve knocked o’er smaller men than you at the half mile. Do you keep well up with me on the trail I’ll be making this day and there’ll be no trouble. Try any tricks and the wolves will have whiskey-soaked meat to feed on. There’s no turning back now. He who comes this far with Shanty Moir goes all the way.”