e meant to
escape the one condition on which his life was to be spared. With
simple cunning he had left the pin where the outlaw must find it; his
own death would be taken for granted--what then?

What then? This ride in the boat. Gledware had made his choice; he
had clung to his possessions--and now Death held the oars. He was
scarcely past middle age. He might have lived so long, he who so loved
to live! But no, he had chosen to be rich--and to die.

When Red Feather brought his mind back to the present, Gledware was
describing to Annabel a ranch in California for which he had traded the
house near Independence. He would take her far away; he would build a
house thus and thus--room so; terraces here; marble pillars....

Annabel listened gravely, silently, her face all the paler for the
sunlight flashing over it, for the mimic sun on the waves glancing up
into her pensive eyes. Somehow, the sunshine, the ripple of the water,
seemed to form no part of her life, belonged rather, to Edgerton
Compton rowing in solitude against the sky. Those naked trees, bare
brown hills and ledges of huge stones seemed her world-boundaries, kin
to her, claiming her-- But there was California ... and the splendid
house to be built....

The Indian was listening now, but as he heard projected details
glowingly presented, no change came in his grim deep-lined face. He
simply knew it was not to be--let the fool plan! He found himself
wondering dully why he no longer hated Gledware with that vindictive
fury that gloats over the death-grip, lingers in fiendish leisure over
the lifted scalp. He scarcely remembered the wrong done his daughter;
it was almost as if he had banished the cause of his revenge; as if
vengeance itself had become a simple stroke of destiny. Gledware had
chosen his possession, and the Indian was Fate's answer.

"Beautiful one," he heard Gledware say, speaking in an altered tone,
"all that is in the future--but see what I have brought you; this is
for today. It's yours, dear--let me see it around your neck with the
sun full upon it--"

Red Feather turned his head, curiously.

Gledware held outstretched a magnificent diamond necklace which shot
forth dazzling rays as it swung from his eager fingers.

Annabel uttered a smothered cry of delight as the iridescence filled
her eyes. She looked across the water toward the pagoda-shaped
club-house where her mother stood, faintly defined as a speck of white
a