The rain and wind whipped him unmercifully, and the cold ran through him, but he was resolved to see what was happening by the adobe wall.

The projections were there and they had increased to four.

They did not go away.
Ned was now convinced that it was not fancy.

His mind had obeyed his will, and he was the true realist, no victim of the imagination.

He was about to kneel down in the grass, and crawl toward the wall, when something caused him to change his mind.