But was that awful spirit in the black eyes only one of vitality?
"Man--why--didn't--you--wait?
Bess--was--" Oldring's whisper died under his beard, and with a heavy lurch he fell forward.
Bounding swiftly away, Venters fled around the corner, across the street, and, leaping a hedge, he ran through yard, orchard, and garden to the sage.

Here, under cover of the tall brush, he turned west and ran on to the place where he had hidden his rifle.

Securing that, he again set out into a run, and, circling through the sage, came up behind Jane Withersteen's stable and corrals.

With laboring, dripping chest, and pain as of a knife thrust in his side, he stopped to regain his breath, and while resting his eyes roved around in search of a horse.

Doors and windows of the stable were open wide and had a deserted look.