-hole."

The east was gray with coming daylight as he rode plashing across the
stream and up the opposite bank. She watched hint, rubbing the blinding
mist from her eyes, until horse and man became a mere dark speck,
finally fading away completely into the dull plain of the desert.

Chapter XXXVI. The Duel in the Desert

Keith rode straight forward into the sandy desolation, spurring his
horse into a swift trot. After one glance backward as they clambered up
the steep bank, a glance which revealed Hope's slender form in the cabin
door, his eyes never turned again that way. He had a man's stern work
to do out yonder, and his purpose could not be swerved, his firmness
of hand and keenness of eye affected, by any thought of her. His lips
compressed, his fingers gripping the rein, he drove all regretful memory
from his mind, until every nerve within him throbbed in unison with his
present purpose. He was right; he knew he was right. It was not hate,
not even revenge, which had sent him forth, leaving love behind, but
honor--the honor of the South, and of the frontier, of his ancestry and
his training--honor that drove him now to meet Hawley face to face,
man to man, to settle the feud between them for all time. And he rode
smiling, gladly, as to a tryst, now that he was at last alone, free in
the desert.

The hours passed, the sun rising higher in the blazing blue of the sky;
the horse, wearied by the constant pull of the sand, had long since
slowed down to a walk; the last dim blur of the cottonwoods along the
Fork had disappeared; and the rider swayed in the saddle, the dead
lifelessness of sky and desert dulling his brain. Yet he had not
forgotten his errand--rousing constantly from lethargy to sweep his
shaded eyes about the rounded horizon, keenly marking the slightest
shadow across the sands, taking advantage of every drift to give
him wider viewpoint, rising in his stirrups to scan the leagues of
desolation ahead. Twice he drew his revolver from out its sheath, tested
it, and slipped in a fresh cartridge, returning the weapon more lightly
to its place, the flap of the holster turned back and held open by his
leg. The sun beat upon him like a ball of fire, the hot sand flinging
the blaze back into his face. He pushed back the upper part of his
shirt, and drank a swallow of tepid water from a canteen strapped behind
the saddle. His eyes ached with the glare, until he saw fantastic red
and yellow shapes da