see him or hear him, and then when he'd move off
out of sight, or quit -- quit his nickering, I'd crawl
along some more. I'm -- I'm done, stranger,"
he concluded, weakly, dropping over upon his
back. "I'm done, and I know it. And it was
that horse that -- that--" He was silent.

Stephen did not speak. He could not speak
after this fearsome tale. Its pictures haunted
him. He could see this poor fellow racing across
the desert, clinging for life to that which meant
death. His own condition had been brought
about through a horse, a horse and wild rides at
a time when he should have been, as this unfortunate
undoubtedly should have been, in bed under
medical care. For a moment he thought he would
tell him a tale of misery equal to his own, in the
hope that he might turn him from thoughts of his
own misfortunes. But before he could speak the
other broke in upon his thoughts with a shrill outcry.
He had raised himself upon one elbow again,
and now was pointing toward the eastern sky.
"Look!" he cried. "Look off there!"
Stephen turned his eyes in the direction of the
pointing finger. He saw a faint light breaking
through the black dome of the sky. As he watched
it, it trickled out steadily, like slow-spreading
water, filtering slowly through dense banks of
clouds, folding them back like the shutter of a
giant camera, until the whole eastern sky was a
field of gray clouds with frosty edges, between
which, coming majestically forward through the
green-white billow, appeared finally a moon, big

[[267]]

p266 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p267w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p268

v?