it the madman's face. His foot,
searching for a brace as he was borne back, found only empty space.
Plunged downward, the nester clung viselike to the man above, dragged
him after, and by the very fury of Irwin's assault flung him far out
into the gulf head-first.

It was Phyl Sanderson's cry of horror that Healy heard. She had put her
horse up the steep at a headlong gallop, had seen the whole furious
struggle and the tragic end of it that witnessed two men hurled over the
precipice into space. She slipped from the saddle, and sank dizzily to
the ground, not daring to look over the cliff at what she would see far
below. Waves of anguish shot through her and shook her very being.

A man bent over her, and gave a startled cry.

"My heaven, it's Phyl!" he cried.

"Yes." She spoke in a flat, lifeless voice he could not have recognized
as hers.

"Where is he? What's become of him?" Healy demanded.

She told him with a gesture, then flung herself on the turf, and broke
down helplessly. The outlaw went to the edge and looked over. The gulf
of air told no story except the obvious one. No wingless living creature
could make that descent without forfeiture of life. He stepped back to
the girl and touched her on the shoulder.

"Come."

She looked up, shuddering, and asked, "Where?"

"With me."

"With you? It was you that drove him to his death, and I loved him!"

"Never mind that now. Come."

"I hate you! I should kill you when I got a chance! Why should I go with
you?" she asked evenly.

He did not know why. He had no definite plan. All he knew was that his
old world lay in ruins at his feet, that he must fly through the night
like a hunted wolf, and that the girl he loved was beside him, forever
free from the rival who lay crushed and lifeless at the foot of the
cliff. He could not give her up now. He would not.

The old savage instinct of ownership rose strong in him. She was his. He
had won her by the fortune of war. He would keep her against all comers
so long as he had life to fight. Night was falling softly over the
hills. They would go forth into it together to a new heaven and a new
earth.

He lifted her to her feet and brought up her horse. She looked at him
in a silence that stripped him of his dreams.

"Come!" he said again, between clenched teeth.

"Not with you. I don't know you. Leave me alone. You killed him! You're
a murderer!"

He stretched hands toward her, but she shrank from him, still