Death seemed only a matter of moments, for the bullet had gone clear through her.

Nevertheless, he tore sageleaves from a bush, and, pressing them tightly over her wounds, he bound the black scarf round her shoulder, tying it securely under her arm.

Then he closed the blouse, hiding from his sight that blood-stained, accusing breast.
"What--now ?" he questioned, with flying mind.

"I must get out of here.
She's dying--but I can't leave her." He rapidly surveyed the sage to the north and made out no animate object.

Then he picked up the girl's sombrero and the mask.