The mustang was quickly secured and saddled, a heavy poncho afforded Tucker a disguise as well as a protection from the rain.

With a few hurried, disconnected words, and an abstracted air, he once more shook his friend's hand and issued cautiously from the corral.
When out of earshot from the house he put spurs to the mustang, and dashed into a gallop.
To intersect the mountain road he was obliged to traverse part of the highway his wife had walked that afternoon, and to pass within a mile of the casa where she was.

Long before he reached that point his eyes were straining the darkness in that direction for some indication of the house which was to him familiar.

Becoming now accustomed to the even obscurity, less trying to the vision than the alternate light and shadow of cloud or the full glare of the moonlight, he fancied he could distinguish its low walls over the monotonous level.

One of those impulses which had so often taken the place of resolution in his character suddenly possessed him to diverge from his course and approach the house.