h buildings;
holding on over the open reach of his ranch, his teeth set, his heels
digging furiously into the ground. The minutes passed. He walked on
swiftly, muttering to himself from time to time.

"Gone, by the Lord. Gone, by the Lord. By the Lord Harry, she's cleared
out."

As yet his head was empty of all thought. He could not steady his wits
to consider this new turn of affairs. He did not even try.

"Gone, by the Lord," he exclaimed. "By the Lord, she's cleared out."

He found the irrigating ditch, and the beaten path made by the ditch
tenders that bordered it, and followed it some five minutes; then struck
off at right angles over the rugged surface of the ranch land, to where
a great white stone jutted from the ground. There he sat down, and
leaning forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and looked out vaguely
into the night, his thoughts swiftly readjusting themselves.

He was alone. The silence of the night, the infinite repose of the
flat, bare earth--two immensities--widened around and above him like
illimitable seas. A grey half-light, mysterious, grave, flooded downward
from the stars.

Annixter was in torment. Now, there could be no longer any doubt--now it
was Hilma or nothing. Once out of his reach, once lost to him, and the
recollection of her assailed him with unconquerable vehemence. Much as
she had occupied his mind, he had never realised till now how vast had
been the place she had filled in his life. He had told her as much, but
even then he did not believe it.

Suddenly, a bitter rage against himself overwhelmed him as he thought of
the hurt he had given her the previous evening. He should have managed
differently. How, he did not know, but the sense of the outrage he had
put upon her abruptly recoiled against him with cruel force. Now, he was
sorry for it, infinitely sorry, passionately sorry. He had hurt her.
He had brought the tears to her eyes. He had so flagrantly insulted her
that she could no longer bear to breathe the same air with him. She had
told her parents all. She had left Quien Sabe--had left him for good,
at the very moment when he believed he had won her. Brute, beast that he
was, he had driven her away.

An hour went by; then two, then four, then six. Annixter still sat in
his place, groping and battling in a confusion of spirit, the like of
which he had never felt before. He did not know what was the matter with
him. He could not find his way out of the dark and ou