Well for him that it was so! There was a sudden loosening and sliding as the struggle in the darkness became fiercer, and then, parting from the mass, a section of the mow, a ton at least in weight, shot downward, carrying upon it the two men, who, as it struck the floor beneath, rolled from its surface through the great open doors, down the steep incline, up which wagons were driven on occasion, and leaped to their feet together, there in the clear moonlight.
They stood glaring at each other.

Grant Harlson gasping, but himself again, as he inhaled the blessed air.

Each stood at bay and watchful.
"Woodell!" The man glared at him savagely.
"What does it mean! What were you going to do ?" "I was going to kill you." "Then they would have hung you." "No, they wouldn't; they would never have found you." "Did you have a knife ?" "I didn't need one--if the cursed hay hadn't come away." "What are you going to do now ?" "I'm going to kill you." There was a look in the man's eyes which showed he was not jesting.
Harlson thought very rapidly just then.

He recognized the earnestness of it all, but his sudden terror was now gone.

Here were light and air and even terms with the other.