room, he unwrapped from oiled leather a heavy blued revolver; and soon
after he saddled his horse and was clattering in a sharp trot in the
opposite direction from the village.

It was dark when, having returned, he dismounted and swung the saddle
from the horse to its tree. Familiar details kept him a long while, his
hands were steady but slow, automatic in movement. He went in through
the kitchen past Ettie to his room, and after a little he re-wrapped
the revolver and laid it back in its accustomed place. Supper, in spite
of Lucy's sharp comment, was set by the stove, and Ettie was solicitous
of his every possible need. He ate methodically what was offered, and
afterward filled and lit his pipe. It soon went out. Once, on the
porch, he leaned toward Lucy and awkwardly touched her shoulder.

X

Wilmer came. He was late, and Lucy said wearily, "I've got a headache
to-night. Do you mind if we stay out here in the cool?"

He didn't, and his confident familiar planning took the place of Martin
Eckles' more exciting narratives.

The next day, past noon, the proprietor of the Greenstream hotel left
an excited group of men to stop Calvin as he drove in from Sugarloaf
Valley.

He cried: "Eckles has been shot and killed. First they found the horse
and buggy by the road, and then Martin Eckles. He had fallen out. One
bullet did it."