yself."

He was paying little attention to the boy's assurances as he went away.
His step had become a little firmer as he turned toward home. He seemed
more like himself when he entered the house and smiled into his wife's
alertly questioning eyes.

"It's all right, I'm to get away," he explained. "I'm away now, strictly
speaking. I want to pack up a few things some time to-day and get the
early morning train for Torreon."

She seemed quite gleeful over this cheerful information. She helped him
make selection of the things he would need, and she was ready with many
helpful suggestions. It seemed that his train left the Eagle Pass station
at five o'clock in the morning--a rather awkward hour; but he did not
mind, he said.

They spent the day together without any restraints, seemingly. There were
a good many things to do, and Sylvia was happy in the thought of serving
him. If he regarded her now and again with an expression of smouldering
fire in his eyes she was unaware of the fact. She sang as she worked,
interrupting her song at frequent intervals to admonish him against this
forgetfulness or that.

* * * * *

She seemed to be asleep when, an hour before daybreak, he stirred and left
her side. But she was awake immediately.

"Is it time to go?" she asked sleepily.

"I hoped I needn't disturb you," he said. "Yes, I ought to be getting on
my way to the station."

She lay as if she were under a spell while he dressed and made ready to go
out. Her eyes were wide open, though she seemed to see nothing. Perhaps
she was merely stupid as a result of being awakened; or it may be that
indefinable, foreboding thoughts filled her mind.

When he came to say good-by to her she put her arms around his neck. "Try
to have a good time," she said, "and come back to me your old self
again."

She felt fearfully alone as she heard him descend the stairs. She held her
head away from the pillow until she heard the sharp closing of the
street-door. "He's gone," she said. She shivered a little and drew the
covers more closely about her.

CHAPTER XXVIII

Runyon rode out past Harboro's house that afternoon.

Sylvia, in her place by the window, watched him come. In the distance he
assumed a new aspect in her eyes. She thought of him impersonally--as a
thrilling picture. She rejoiced in the sight of him as one may in the
spectacle of an army marching with banners and music.

An