Dully he watched it, and for him it was the flaming sword barring the gates of Eden.
Hours later--for sleep was not for him--Dan Anderson stood waiting for the sun to rise over old Carrizo.

Far off, along the pathway of the morn, lay his former home, the States, the East, the fight, the combat, and the grovelling.

"No, not for me; not there!" he said, conviction coming to him once more.
He turned then and glanced down the single street of Heart's Desire, a street as straggling and purposeless as his own misdirected life--a wavering lane through the poor habitations of a Land of Oblivion.
Longer he looked, and stronger the conviction grew.

"No, no," he said, clenching his hand; "not here for her--not here!".