dark against that glowing light. Up came the rim of the
sun, and Stanesby, urging his tired horse forward, said, "We ought to
see the hut now. The confounded sun 's in my eyes."

Turner rubbed his own. But no, against the golden glowing rising sun the
horizon was clean cut as ever, only the boundless plain, nothing more.

"Jimmy!" Stanesby's voice was sharp with pain and dread.

Jimmy raised his head sullenly. He was tired too, and considered himself
ill-used.

"All gone humpy," he said.

Brighter and brighter grew the sunlight, another fierce hot day had
begun. And there was nothing in sight, nothing. The plain was all around
them, north, south, west, only in the east the red bluffs.

"All gone humpy." Their haste had been of no avail. The tale was told.
They had come too late.

What need to ride for all they were worth now? But so they did ride,
revolver in hand. And when they arrived at what had been Dick Stanesby's
hut, an out-station of Nilpe Nilpe, there was nothing to mark it from
the surrounding plain but a handful of ashes; even the hard earth showed
no sign of trampling feet.

Stanesby flung himself off his horse like a madman.

"She may be all right. She must be all right. It may have been an
accident. She is hidden down by the creek."

Turner said nothing. What could he say? His thoughts flew back to the
lonely hut, and the girl lying there on the hard ground in her dusky red
dress, alone, cast off, a thing of use to no one. Well, she was dead,
he expected nothing else, and she was avenged. Surely this home-coming
would haunt the man who had left her all the days of his life.

He laid his hand heavily on the black boy's shoulder.

"Track, you devil!"

And Jimmy led the way down towards the waterhole.

They followed him in silence.

The tall reeds looked green and fresh after the hot dry plain, but
they also suggested another idea to Turner, and he tried to check his
companion's headlong career.

"Look out! You don't know. They might be in those reed beds."

"All gone blackfellow," said Jimmy, and stolidly went ahead.

Then at last he brought them to what they sought. Dead, of course. Long
before they started on that mad ride back her sufferings had been over.
Dead! and Turner dared not look his companion in the face. No peace, no
tenderness, about a death like this. It was too terrible! And this man
had left her; in spite of her prayers he had left her!

They avenged her. The blacks ha