For an hour he led his spent horse, still moving toward the far-off shining peak, which glowed long after darkness had fallen on the plains.

At last it grew too dim to guide him farther, and slipping the saddle from his horse, he turned him loose to feed upon the bunch grass.
As the light faded from the sky so the exultation and sense of freedom went out of the boy's heart.

His mind went back to the struggle in the street.

He felt no remorse, no pity for the drunken fools, but he was angry and discouraged and disgusted with himself.

He had ended in failure and in flight where he should have won success and respect.