It was his duty.
But the ground whirled by under his madness, and showed him plainly that to jump off would be instant death.

Then the thought of his mother came again, and the girl's words, "I am nothing to you, you know." The train whirled its way between two mountains and the valley, and the green and brown and yellow blur were gone from sight.

He felt as if he had just seen the coffin close over the girl's sweet face, and he had done it.
By and by he crawled into the car, pulled his slouch hat down over his eyes, and settled down in a seat; but all the time he was trying to see over again that old saloon and those four men, and to make out their passing identity.

Sometimes the agony of thinking it all over, and trying to make out whether those men had been the pursuers, made him feel frantic; and it seemed as if he must pull the bell-cord, and make the train stop, and get off to walk back.

Then the utter hopelessness of ever finding her would come over him, and he would settle back in his seat again and try to sleep.