feet the green gardens of their hearts'
desire; yet, who should sit in judgment on him, or seek a justification
in his deeds to--to---- Even then she could not bring her thoughts to
express it, although her wild heart had sung over it less than
twenty-four hours before.

A shiver of sickness turned her cold. With quick, nervous fingers she
unbuckled the belt which held her revolver and cartridges; she carried
the weapon into the tent and flung it to the ground.

At dusk the sheep-herder returned, with the horse much blown.

"He had been there, but he's gone," he announced. "I followed him
eastward along the stage-road, but lost his trail."

He dismounted and dropped the reins to the ground. Agnes set about to
relieve the tired animal of the burden of the saddle, the sheep-herder
offering no assistance. He stood with his head bent, an air of dejection
and melancholy over him, a cloud upon his face. Presently he walked
away, saying no more. She watched him as he went, moodily and unheeding
of his way, until he passed out of view around a thicket of tangled
shrubs which grew upon the river-bank.

While her horse was relieving his weariness in contented sighs over his
oats, Agnes made a fire and started her evening coffee. She had a
feeling of cleanness in her conscience, and a lightness of heart which
she knew never could have been her own to enjoy again if the crazed
herder had come back with blood upon his hands.

There was no question about the feeling of loneliness that settled down
upon her with aching intensity when she sat down to her meal, spread on
a box, the lantern a yellow speck in the boundless night. A rod away its
poor, futile glimmer against such mighty odds was understood, standing
there with no encompassing walls to mark the boundary of its field. It
was like the struggle of a man who stands alone in the vastness of life
with no definite aim to circumscribe his endeavor, wasting his feeble
illumination upon a little rod of earth.

We must have walls around us, both lanterns and men, rightly to fill the
sphere of our designed usefulness; walls to restrain our wastrel forces;
walls to bind our lustful desires, our foolish ambitions, our outwinging
flights. Yet, in its way, the lantern served nobly, as many a man serves
in the circle which binds his small adventures, and beyond which his
fame can never pass.

From the door of her tent Agnes looked out upon the lantern, comparing
herself with it, pu