headthemhawssesoff。Imaynotgetbackrightaway。“Hegallopeduptheopenhillandwentintothepine，choosingaplaceabovewherethevagrantshaddisappeared。
　　Balaamdismounted，andpickinguphissix-shooter，tooktheropeoffPedro’sneckanddrovehimslowlydowntowardwherethewoodbegan。Itsinteriorwasalreadydim，andBalaamsawthatheremustbetheirstopping-placeto-night，sincetherewasnotellinghowwidethispinestripmightextendalongthetrailbeforetheycouldcomeoutofitandreachanothersuitablecamping-ground。
　　Pedrohadrecoveredhisstrength，andhenowshowedsignsofrestlessness。Heshiedwheretherewasnotevenastoneinthetrail，andfinallyturnedsharplyround。Balaamexpectedhewasgoingtorushbackonthewaytheyhadcome；butthehorsestoodstill，breathingexcitedly。Hewasurgedforwardagain，thoughheturnedmorethanonce。Butwhentheywereafewpacesfromthewood，andBalaamhadgotoffpreparatorytocamping，thehorsesnortedanddashedintothewater，andstoodstillthere。TheastonishedBalaamfollowedtoturnhim；butPedroseemedtolosecontrolofhimself，andplungedtothemiddleoftheriver，andwasevidentlyintendingtocross。Fearingthathewouldescapetotheoppositemeadowandaddtotheirdifficulties，Balaam，withtheideaofturninghimround，drewhissix-shooterandfiredinfrontofthehorse，divining，evenastheflashcutthedusk，thesecretofallthis——theIndians；buttoolate。Hisbruisedhandhadstiffened，marringhisaim，andhesawPedrofalloverinthewaterthenriseandstruggleupthebankonthefarthershore，wherehenowhurriedalso，tofindthathehadbrokenthepony’sleg。
　　Heneedednointerpreterforthevoicesoftheseemingowlsthathadhauntedthelatterhouroftheirjourney，andheknewthathisbeast’skeenerinstincthadperceivedthedestructionthatlurkedintheinteriorofthewood。Thehistoryofthetrapperwhosehorsehadreturnedwithouthimmighthavebeen——mightstillbe——hisown；andhethoughtoftheragthathadfallenfromthebuzzard’stalonswhenhehadbeendisturbedathismealinthemarsh。“Peaceable“Indianswerestillinthesemountains，andsomefewofthemhadforthepasthourbeenskirtinghisjourneyunseen，andnowwaitedforhiminthewoodwhichtheyexpectedhimtoenter。Theyhadbeentoowarytousetheirriflesorshowthemselves，lestthesetravellersshouldbeonlypartofalargercompanyfollowing，whowouldhearthenoiseofashot，andcatchthemintheactofmurder。So，safeunderthecoverofthepines，theyhadplannedtoslingtheirsilentnoose，anddragthewhitemanfromhishorseashepassedthroughthetrees。
　　Balaamlookedovertheriverattheominouswood，andthenhelookedatPedro，thehorsethathehadfirstmaimedandnowruined，towhomheprobablyowedhislife。Hewaslyingontheground，quietlylookingoverthegreenmeadow，whereduskwasgathering。Perhapshewasnotsufferingfromhiswoundyet，asherestedontheground；andintohisanimalintelligencethereprobablycamenoknowledgeofthisfinalstrokeofhisfate。Atanyrate，nosoundofpaincamefromPedro，whosefriendlyandgentlefaceremainedturnedtowardthemeadow。OncemoreBalaamfiredhispistol，andthistimetheaimwastrue，andthehorserolledover，withaballthroughhisbrain。Itwasthebestrewardthatremainedforhim。
　　ThenBalaamrejoinedtheoldmare，andturnedfromthemiddleforkofSunkCreek。Hedashedacrossthewidefield，andwentoveraridge，andfoundhiswayalonginthenighttillhecametotheoldtrail——theroadwhichtheywouldneverhaveleftbutforhimandhisobstinacy。HeunsaddledthewearymarebySunkCreek，wherethecanyonbegins，lettingherdragaropeandfindpastureandwater，whilehe，lightingnofiretobetrayhim，crouchedcloseunderatreetillthelightcame。HethoughtoftheVirginianinthewood。Butwhatcouldeitherhavedonefortheotherhadhestayedtolookforhimamongthepines？Ifthecow-punchercamebacktothecorner，hewouldfollowBalaam’stracksornot。Theywouldmeet，atanyrate，wherethecreeksjoined。
　　Buttheydidnotmeet。AndthentoBalaamtheprospectofgoingonwardtotheSunkCreekRanchbecamemorethanhecouldbear。Tocomewithoutthehorses，tomeetJudgeHenry，tomeettheguestsoftheJudge’s，lookingashedidnowafterhispunishmentbytheVirginian，togivethenewsabouttheJudge’sfavoriteman——no，howcouldhetellsuchastoryasthis？Balaamwentnofartherthanacertaincabin，whereheslept，andwrotealettertotheJudge。Thistheownerofthecabindelivered。Andso，havingspreadnewswhichwouldatoncecauseasearchfortheVirginian，andhavingconstructedsuchsentencestotheJudgeaswouldmostsmoothlyexplainhow，beingovertakenbyillness，hehadnotwishedtobeaburdenatSunkCreek，Balaamturnedhomewardbyhimself。BythetimehewasoncemoreatButteCreek，hisgeneralappearancewasathinglesstobenoticed。AndtherewasShorty，waiting！
　　Onewayandanother，thelostdoghadbeenabletogathersomereadymoney。Hewascheerfulbecauseofthismomentarypursefulofprosperity。
　　“AndsoIcomeback，yu’see，“hesaid。“ForIfiguredongettingPedrobackassoonasIcouldwhenIsoldhimto，yu’。“
　　“You’rebehindthetimes，Shorty，“saidBalaam。
　　Shortylookedblank。“You’vesurenotsoldPedro？“heexclaimed。
　　“ThemIndians，“saidBalaam，“gotaftermeontheBowLegtrail。
　　GotaftermeandthatVirginiaman。Buttheydidn’tgetme。“
　　Balaamwaggedhisbulletheadtoimplythatthisescapewasduetohisownsuperiorintelligence。TheVirginianhadbeenstupid，andsotheIndianshadgothim。“Andtheyshotyourhorse，“
　　Balaamfinished。“Stopandgetsomedinnerwiththeboys。“
　　Havingeaten，Shortyrodeawayinmournfulspirits。ForhehadmadesosureofoncemoreridingandtalkingwithPedro，hisfriendwhomhehadtaughttoshakehands。
　　Exceptforitschairandbed，thecabinwasstrippedalmostbare。
　　Amiditsemptinessofdismantledshelvesandwallsandfloor，onlythetinyancestressstillhunginherplace，lasttokenofthehomethathadbeen。Thisminiature，tackedagainstthedespoiledboards，anditsdescendant，theangrygirlwithherhandonanopenbox-lid，madeasortofcoupleintheloneliness:
　　sheonthewallsweetandserene，shebytheboxsweetandstormy。Thepicturewasherfinaltreasurewaitingtobepackedforthejourney。Inwhateverroomshehadcalledherownsincechildhood，thereithadalsolivedandlookedather，notquitefamiliar，notquitesmiling，butinitsprimcolonialhuesdelicateassomepressedflower。Itspaleoval，ofcolorblueandroseandflaxen，inabattered，prettygoldframe，unconquerablypervadedanysurroundingswithasomethinglikelastyear’slavender。TillyesterdayaCrowIndianwar-bonnethadhungnextit，asumptuouscascadeoffeathers；ontheothersideabowwitharrowshaddangled；oppositehadbeentheskinofasilverfox；
　　overthedoorhadspreadtheantlersofablack-taildeer；abearskinstretchedbeneathit。Thushadthewholecoseylogcabinbeenupholstered，lavishwithtrophiesofthefrontier；andyetitwasinfrontoftheminiaturethatthevisitorsusedtostop。
　　Shiningquietlynowinthecabin’sblacknessthissummerday，theheirloomwaspresidinguntiltheend。AndasMollyWood’seyesfelluponherancestressofBennington，1777，thereflashedasparkofsteelinthem，alonehereintheroomthatshewasleavingforever。ShewasnotgoingtoteachschoolanymoreonBearCreek，Wyoming；shewasgoinghometoBennington，Vermont。
　　Whentimecameforschooltoopenagain，thereshouldbeanewschoolmarm。
　　ThiswasthemomentousresultofthatvisitwhichtheVirginianhadpaidher。Hehadtoldherthathewascomingforhishoursoon。Fromthathourshehaddecidedtoescape。Shewasrunningawayfromherownheart。Shedidnotdaretotrustherselffacetofaceagainwithherpotent，indomitablelover。Shelongedforhim，andthereforeshewouldneverseehimagain。Nogreat-auntatDunbarton，oranybodyelsethatknewherandherfamily，shouldeversaythatshehadmarriedbelowherstation，hadbeenanunworthyStark！Accordingly，shehadwrittentotheVirginian，biddinghimgood-by，andwishinghimeverythingintheworld。Asshehappenedtobeawarethatshewastakingeverythingintheworldawayfromhim，thisletterwasnotthemosteasyofletterstowrite。Butshehadmadethelanguageverykind。Yes；itwasathoroughlykindcommunication。Andallbecauseofthatmomentaryvisit，whenhehadbroughtbacktohertwonovels，EMMAandPRIDE
　　ANDPREJUDICE。
　　“Howdoyoulikethem？“shehadtheninquired；andhehadsmiledslowlyather。“Youhaven’treadthem！“sheexclaimed。
　　“No。“
　　“Areyougoingtotellmetherehasbeennotime？“
　　“No。“
　　ThenMollyhadscoldedhercow-puncher，andtothishehadlistenedwithpleasureundisguised，asindeedhelistenedtoeverywordthatshesaid。
　　“Why，ithascometoolate，“hehadtoldherwhenthescoldingwasover。“IfIwasoneofyourlittlescholarshyehinBearCreekschoolhouse，yu’couldlearnmetolikesuchfrilleryI
　　reckon。ButI’mamightyignorant，growed-upman。“
　　“Somuchtheworseforyou！“saidMolly。
　　“No。IamprettygladIamaman。ElseIcouldnothavelearnedthethingyouhavetaughtme。“
　　Butsheshutherlipsandlookedaway。OnthedeskwasaletterwrittenfromVermont。“Ifyoudon’ttellmeatoncewhenyoudecide，“hadsaidthearchwriter，“neverhopetospeaktomeagain。MaryWood，seriously，Iamsuspicious。Whydoyounevermentionhimnowadays？Howexcitingtohaveyoubringalivecow-boytoBennington！Weshouldallcometodinner。ThoughofcourseIunderstandnowthatmanyofthemhaveexcellentmanners。
　　Butwouldhewearhispistolattable？“Sotheletterranon。Itrecountedthelatesthomegossipandjokes。InansweringitMollyWoodhadtakennonoticeofitschildishtonehereandthere。
　　“Hyeh’ssomeofthemcactusblossomsyu’wanted，“saidtheVirginian。Hisvoicerecalledthegirlwithalmostastart。“I’vebroughtagoodhawssI’vegentledforyu’，andTaylor’llkeephimtillIneedhim。“
　　“Thankyousomuch！butIwish——“
　　“Ireckonyu’can’tstopmelendin’Taylorahawss。Andyoucert’nly’llgetsickschoolteachin’ifyu’don’tkeepoutdoorssome。Goodby——tillthatnexttime。“
　　“Yes；there’salwaysanexttime，“sheanswered，aslightlyasshecould。
　　“Therealwayswillbe。Don’tyu’knowthat？“
　　Shedidnotreply。
　　“Ihavediscouragedspells，“hepursued，“butIdownthem。ForI’vetoldyu’youweregoingtoloveme。Youaregoin’tolearnbackthethingyouhavetaughtme。I’mriotaskin’anythingnow；
　　Idon’twantyoutospeakawordtome。ButI’mnevergoin’toquittill’nexttime’isnomore，andit’s’allthetime’foryouandme。“
　　Withthathehadriddenaway，noteventouchingherhand。LongafterhehadgoneshewasstillInherchair，hereyeslingeringuponhisflowers，thoseyellowcupsofthepricklypear。Atlengthshehadrisenimpatiently，caughtuptheflowers，gonewiththemtotheopenwindow，-andthen，afterall，setthemwithpainsinwater。
　　Butto-dayBearCreekwasover。Shewasgoinghomenow。Bytheweek’sendshewouldbestarted。Bythetimethemailbroughthimhergood-bylettershewouldbegone。Shehadacted。
　　ToBearCreek，theneighborly，thefriendly，thenotcomprehending，thismovehadcomeunlookedfor，andhadbroughtregret。OnlyonehardwordhadbeenspokentoMolly，andthatbyhernext-doorneighborandkindestfriend。InMrs。Taylor’shousethegirlhaddailycomeandgoneasadaughter，andthatladyreachedthesubjectthus:-“WhenItookTaylor，“saidshe，sittingbyasRobertBrowningandJaneAustenweregoingintotheirbox，“Imarriedforlove。“
　　“Doyouwishithadbeenmoney？“saidMolly，stoopingtoherindustries。
　　“Youknowbothofusbetterthanthat，child。“
　　“IknowI’veseenpeopleathomewhocouldn’tpossiblyhavehadanyotherreason。Theyseemedsatisfied，too。“
　　“Maybethepoorignorantthingswere！“
　　“AndsoIhaveneverbeensurehowImightchoose。“
　　“Yes，youaresure，deary。Don’tyouthinkIknowyou？AndwhenitcomesoverTayloronceinawhile，andhetellsmeI’mthebestthinginhislife，andItellhimheain’tmerelythebestthingbuttheonlythinginmine，——himandthechildren，——why，wejustagreewe’ddoitalloverthesamewayifwehadthechance。“