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CLIFFORD ARMYTAGE, THE OUTLAW.
Dawn brought the wide stretches of the Holden lot into gray relief.

It lightened the big yellow stages and crept down the narrow street of the Western town where only the ghosts of dead plays stalked.

It burnished the rich fronts of the Fifth Avenue mansions and in the next block illumined the rough sides of a miner's cabin.
With more difficulty it seeped through the blurred glass of the one window in this structure and lightened the shadows of its interior to a pale gray.

The long-handled frying-pan rested on the hearth where the little girl had left it.