rst, then somehow faster as he heard voices within sink from a
cheerful note of greeting to a low rumble of discord.

He began to take heed of objects close around him. He discovered, now
that all light was shut off, that he was not alone. To his left stood
two horses, with heads drooping, legs slightly spread, reins dangling,
quiet and patient in their mute waiting. Promptly with the discovery he
took a step in their direction, intent upon establishing friendship. But
he found himself checked with a jerk. For an instant he did not
understand this. Then he remembered that his reins were tied, and
because his mistress never had deemed this necessary he came to feel a
kind of irritation, though he made no attempt to force his freedom. Yet,
keeping his eyes upon the other horses, he saw that they themselves were
free to come and go, that their reins were dangling on the ground. And
now he realized that he was under suspicion. He knew what that was from
long association with the Mexican hostler, and, smarting under it, he
determined to show his new master, and that before many hours had
elapsed, he as well as these others was capable of trust.

The door flung open and three men filed out. A fourth remained standing
on the threshold, holding up a smoking lamp. Other than the tread of
heels no sound accompanied their appearance, no comment, no laughter, no
farewells. This made a deep impression upon him, and with further
misgivings he watched the men descend the few loose steps and make for
the horses, his own master, the tallest of the men, coming slowly toward
him. A moment of gathering reins, then all mounted, and one, a squat,
powerfully built man, evidently the leader, turned in a southwesterly
direction, riding off in the engulfing darkness, heading away from the
river. Seeing this, Pat stepped out after him, pressing close upon the
heels of his horse, conscious that the third horse, ridden by a little
man, was crowding him for second position. But he held stubbornly to his
place, and in this place set out along an unmarked trail. He covered
mile after mile at a fox-trot, mile after mile in absolute silence,
until faint rays of dawn, streaking the sky above a ridge to the east,
surprised him into realization of the quick passage of night and his own
prolonged duty therein. It was all very strange.

Daylight followed swiftly. From a dull lead color the sky immediately
above the ridge, which stretched away interminably n