Then clear and firm her voice sounded in his ears. He strained forward to catch the words, and at that moment he knew in his heart that this woman meant more to him than life itself—more than revenge—more even than the welfare of his Indians.
"You received my letter?" asked the girl eagerly. "Can you forgive me? Do you understand?"
MacNair answered, controlling his voice with difficulty. "There is nothing to forgive. I have understood you all along."
"You will promise to grant one request—for my sake?"
Without hesitation came the man's answer; "Anything you ask."
"On your soul, will you promise, and will you keep that promise regardless of consequences?"
"I promise," answered the man, and his voice rang harsh. For revenge upon Lapierre with his own hands had been the dearest hope of his life. At the next words of the girl, an icy hand seemed clutching at his heart.
"Then fight!" she cried. "Fight! Fight! Fight! Shoot! And cut! And batter! And kill! Until you have ridded the North of this fiend!"
With a snarl, Lapierre leaped toward the girl with arm upraised. There was a chorus of hoarse cries from behind the walls. Before the uplifted arm could descend the figure of Lapierre disappeared with startling suddenness. The next instant the gigantic form of Big Lena appeared, head and shoulders above the walls of the stockade at the point where Lapierre had been. The huge shoulders stooped, the form of Chloe Elliston arose as on air, shot over the wall, and dropped into a crumpled heap upon the snow at its base. The face of Big Lena framed by flying strands of flaxen hair appeared for a moment above the wall, and then the sound of a shot rang sharp and clear. The face disappeared, and from beyond the wall came the muffled thud of a heavy body striking the snow.
A dark head appeared above the walls at the point near where the girl had fallen, and an arm was thrust over the logs. MacNair caught the glint of a blue-black barrel. Like a flash he drew his automatic and fired. The revolver dropped from the top of the wall to the snow, and the hand that held it gripped frantically at the logs and disappeared.