The tense tones rang through the long room where a hundred and fifty big men sat silent—hypnotized by the intense drama of the scene.
With a lithe, swift movement the half-breed girl raised her hands to her bosom and tore at the fastenings of her hunting-shirt. There was the sound of popping buttons, the heavily embroidered shirt flew open, and there, gleaming cold and gray in the lamplight, upon the warm ivory of her bared breast lay a naked blade—the broken blade of a sheath knife!
She broke the cord that held it suspended about her neck and extended the blade toward the man, uttering but a single word:
"Come!"
And as Bill's eyes fell upon the bit of metal his form stiffened and his fists clenched.
"I will come—lead on!" he answered For in his mind rang the words of his solemn promise: "No people of the earth, and nothing that is upon the earth, nor of the earth, shall prevent me—and one day you will know that my words are true."
The half-breed girl had already turned away when the man's eyes sought the eyes of his wife. She was regarding him with a strange, frightened stare. Her face had turned marble white at his words, and she gasped uncertainly for breath.
Her pallor alarmed Bill, who stepped toward her with outstretched arms; but she shrank from his touch and her blue eyes fixed him with their cold, frightened stare.
"Ethel!" he cried. "Darling—my wife! I must go! It is The Promise!" Unconsciously he repeated the words of the old squaw. "Wa-ha-ta-na-ta, in the last extremity of her need, is calling—and I must go to her.
"Oh, can't you see?" he cried suddenly, as the look of horror deepened upon the face of his wife. "Darling—only long enough to give her aid—then I will return! Surely, surely, dear, you trust me! You will believe in me—just this once! When I return to you I will explain all—I can't wait, now—good-by!"