He swung himself up.
"God for us all," he declared as he rode away, "and the devil take the hindmost.

Good-bye, I'm going home.

I still have one a little longer." He galloped away along the Lower Road, in the direction of Quien Sabe, emerging from the grove of cypress and eucalyptus about the ranch house, and coming out upon the bare brown plain of the wheat land, stretching away from him in apparent barrenness on either hand.
It was late in the day, already his shadow was long upon the padded dust of the road in front of him.

On ahead, a long ways off, and a little to the north, the venerable campanile of the Mission San Juan was glinting radiant in the last rays of the sun, while behind him, towards the north and west, the gilded dome of the courthouse at Bonneville stood silhouetted in purplish black against the flaming west.

Annixter spurred the buck-skin forward.