"No; this is my treat!"

The men stopped in the wagon trail to wait for her. Bob watched with
distinct pleasure her lithe, active figure making its way through the
tangle of underbrush, finally emerging into the clear and climbing with
swift, sure movements to the little elevation on which grew the
beautiful, pink-leaved dogwoods. She turned when she had gained the
level of the yellow pine, to wave her hand at her companions. Even at
the distance, Bob could make out the flush of her cheeks and divine the
delighted sparkle of her eyes.

But as she turned, her gesture was arrested in midair, and almost
instantly she uttered a piercing scream. Bob had time to take a half
step forward. Then a heavy blow on the back of his neck threw him
forward. He stumbled and fell on his face. As he left his feet, the
crash of two revolver shots in quick succession rang in his ears.

XXXIII

Oldham's cold rage carried him to the railroad and into his berth. Then,
with the regular beat and throb of the carwheels over the sleepers,
other considerations forced themselves upon him. Consequences demanded
recognition.

The land agent had not for many years permitted himself to act on
impulse. Therefore this one lapse from habit alarmed him vaguely by the
mere fact that it was a lapse from habit. He distrusted himself in an
unaccustomed environment of the emotions.

But superinduced on this formless uneasiness were graver considerations.
He could not but admit to himself that he had by his expressed order
placed himself to some extent in Saleratus Bill's power. He did not for
a moment doubt the gun-man's loyal intentions. As long as things went
well he would do his best by his employer--if merely to gain the reward
promised him only on fulfillment of his task. But it is not easy to
commit a murder undetected. And if detected, Oldham had no illusions as
to Saleratus Bill. The gun-man, would promptly shelter himself behind
his principal.

As the night went on, and Oldham found himself unable to sleep in the
terrible heat, the situation visualized itself. Step by step he followed
out the sequence of events as they might be, filling in the minutest
details of discovery, exposure and ruin. Gradually, in the tipped
balance of after midnight, events as they might be became events as they
surely would be. Oldham began to see that he had made a fearful mistake.
No compunction entered his mind that he had condemned a man to death;
but a