“Where?”

“Venters took Wrangle to the stable.  The sorrel’s shy a shoe, an’ I’ve got to help hold the big devil an’ put on another.”

“Tell Bern to come for the pack I want to give him—­and—­and to say good-by,” called Jane, as Lassiter went out.

Jane passed the rest of that day in a vain endeavor to decide what and what not to put in the pack for Venters.  This task was the last she would ever perform for him, and the gifts were the last she would ever make him.  So she picked and chose and rejected, and chose again, and often paused in sad revery, and began again, till at length she filled the pack.

It was about sunset, and she and Fay had finished supper and were sitting in the court, when Venters’s quick steps rang on the stones.  She scarcely knew him, for he had changed the tattered garments, and she missed the dark beard and long hair.  Still he was not the Venters of old.  As he came up the steps she felt herself pointing to the pack, and heard herself speaking words that were meaningless to her.  He said good-by; he kissed her, released her, and turned away.  His tall figure blurred in her sight, grew dim through dark, streaked vision, and then he vanished.

Twilight fell around Withersteen House, and dusk and night.  Little Fay slept; but Jane lay with strained, aching eyes.  She heard the wind moaning in the cottonwoods and mice squeaking in the walls.  The night was interminably long, yet she prayed to hold back the dawn.  What would another day bring forth?  The blackness of her room seemed blacker for the sad, entering gray of morning light.  She heard the chirp of awakening birds, and fancied she caught a faint clatter of hoofs.  Then low, dull distant, throbbed a heavy gunshot.  She had expected it, was waiting for it; nevertheless, an electric shock checked her heart, froze the very living fiber of her bones.  That vise-like hold on her faculties apparently did not relax for a long time, and it was a voice under her window that released her.

“Jane!...Jane!” softly called Lassiter.

She answered somehow.

“It’s all right.  Venters got away.  I thought mebbe you’d heard that shot, en’ I was worried some.”

“What was it—­who fired?”

“Well—­some fool feller tried to stop Venters out there in the sage—­an’ he only stopped lead!...I think it’ll be all right.  I haven’t seen or heard of any other fellers round.  Venters’ll go through safe.  An’, Jane, I’ve got Bells saddled, an’ I’m going to trail Venters.  Mind, I won’t show myself unless he falls foul of somebody an’ needs me.  I want to see if this place where he’s goin’ is safe for him.  He says nobody can track him there.  I never seen the place yet I couldn’t track a man to.  Now, Jane, you stay indoors while I’m gone, an’ keep close watch on Fay.  Will you?”

“Yes!  Oh yes!”

“An’ another thing, Jane,” he continued, then paused for long—­“another thing—­if you ain’t here when I come back—­if you’re gone—­don’t fear, I’ll trail you—­I’ll find you out.”