elder mumbled something about its being "three years ago," and then
turning suddenly on Gideon, said:

"P'r'aps YOU'RE a preacher?"

"I am."

"Can you come to a dying man?"

"I will."

The two men again looked at each other. "But," continued Gideon,
softly, "you'll please keep quiet so as not to disturb the widow
and her children, while I get my horse." He turned away; the
younger man made a movement as if to stop him, but the elder
quickly restrained his hand. "He isn't goin' to run away," he
whispered. "Look," he added, as Gideon a moment later reappeared
mounted and equipped.

"Do you think we'll be in time?" asked the young preacher as they
rode quickly away in the direction of the tules.

The younger repressed a laugh; the other answered grimly, "I
reckon."

"And is he conscious of his danger?"

"I reckon."

Gideon did not speak again. But as the onus of that silence seemed