y. And if he comes
this way ..."

The man at the steps stopped and in the long silence Thornton knew that
the two other people playing this grim game with him were listening even
as he was, trying to force their eyes to see through the shadows. Then
the heavy tread again, and Thornton thought that it was coming nearer.
Then a pause, the step once more, and Pollard, if Pollard it were, had
turned the other way and keeping close to the house was moving toward
the far corner. The steps grew fainter as they drew farther away, and he
knew that the man had gone around the corner of the building.

That other person at the other corner of the house, at Thornton's right,
had heard and understood, too. The cowboy heard steps there again, quick
steps, almost running, soft, quick breathing not a yard away, and
bending forward a little, knew that Winifred Waverly had come to keep
her tryst with him.

"Miss Waverly?" he whispered softly.

She was at his side, close to him, so close that he could feel the sweep
of her skirts against his boots. She, too, had leaned forward, her face
lifted up to his, her eyes seeking to make sure who this man was.

"Buck Thornton?" she whispered back.

"Yes. What is it?"

"Here. Quick!" She had thrust a folded paper into his fingers, closing
them tightly upon it. "Now, go! Do what I tell you in it. Henry Pollard
suspects something; he is looking for me. Go quickly!"

She was already passing him, hastening toward the steps and the front
door.

"Wait!" he commanded, his hand hard upon her arm. "I don't
understand...."

"For God's sake let me go!" Only a whisper, but he thought he heard a
quiver of terror in it, he knew that her arm was trembling violently.
"He'd kill me. ... Oh, my God, go!"

"If there is danger for you..."

"There is none if you go now ... if he doesn't find me here. Please,
Buck...."

She jerked away from him and went swiftly to the steps. He could hear
her every step now so plainly his heart stood still with fear that
Pollard must hear, too. He heard her go to the door; she passed on, and
so became one with the blot of darkness within the house. Then he drew
back, slowly, half regretfully, back toward the gate, stopping for a
last time under the trees there. And after a very long time he heard
Pollard's steps again. The man had made a tour of his grounds, keeping
rather close to the house, and now mounted the steps with no effort at
silence, slammed the door and drop