is mask of a face was seamed and black from dust and sweat; he saw
the water and let out one queer, hoarse screech and kicked at his horse
with wabbling legs.

"'Look out!' I cried, and stepped in his way. I had seen this sort
of thing before and knew what to expect; but he rode me down as if
I hadn't been there. His horse tried to avoid me, and the next moment
the sack of grain on its back was on the sands, creeping like a great,
monstrous, four-legged thing toward the water. 'Stay where you are,'
I said, 'and I'll bring you some.' But he only crawled the faster. I
grabbed his shoulder. 'You fool!' I said. 'You'll kill yourself!'

"'Damn you!' he blubbered. 'Damn you!' And before I knew it, and with
all the strength, I imagine, left in him, he was on his feet and I was
looking down the barrel of his gun. It looked very round and big and
black, too. Beyond it his eyes were regarding me; they were quite mad,
there was no doubt about that, but, just the way a dying man achieves
some of his old desire to will, there was definite purpose in them.
'You get out of my way,' he said, and began very slowly to circle me.
You could hardly hear his words, his lips were so blistered and swollen.

"And now this is the point of what I am telling you." Hardy fumbled
again for a match and relit his cigarette. "There we were, we two,
in that desert light, about ten feet from the water, he with his gun
pointing directly at my heart--and his hand wasn't trembling as much
as you would imagine, either--and he was circling me step by step,
and I was standing still. I suppose the whole affair took two minutes,
maybe three, but in that time--and my brain was still blurred to other
impressions--I saw the thing as clearly as I see it now, as clearly as
I saw that great, swollen beast of a face. Here was the chance I had
longed for, the hope I had lain awake at night and prayed for; between
the man and death I alone stood; and I had every reason, every instinct
of decency and common sense, to make me step aside. The man was a devil;
he was killing the finest woman I had ever met; his presence poisoned
the air he walked in; he was an active agent of evil, there was no doubt
of that. I hated him as I had never hated anything else in my life, and
at the moment I was sure that God wanted him to die. I knew then that
to save him would be criminal; I think so still. And I saw other
considerations as well; saw them as clearly as I see you sitting here.