Boylewasneitherahard-heartednoranundulysensitiveman。Hisvocationhadbroughthimperilenoughbylandandwater；hehadoftenrenderedvaluableassistancetoothers，hissympathyneverconfusinghisdirectnessandcommonsense。Hewassorryforthesetwomen，andwouldhavefoughttosavethem。Buthehadnoimaginativeideasofdeath。Andhiskeenperceptionofthetruthwasconsequentlysensitivelyaliveonlytothatgrotesquenessofaspectwhichtoooftenthehaplessvictimsofviolenceareapttoassume。Hesawnoagonyinthevacanteyesofthetwomenlyingontheirbacksinapparentlythecomplacentabandonmentofdrunkenness，whichwasfurthersimulatedbytheirtumbledanddisorderedhairmattedbycoagulatedblood，which，however，hadlostitssanguinecolor。Hethoughtonlyoftheunsuspectinggirlsittinginthelonelycoach，andhurriedlydraggedthemfurtherintothebushes。Indoingthishediscoveredaloadedrevolverandaflaskofspiritswhichhadbeenlyingunderthem，andpromptlysecuredthem。Afewpacesawaylaythecovetedtrunksofarmsandammunition，theirlidswrenchedoffandtheircontentsgone。Henoticedwithagrimsmilethathisowntrunksofsampleshadsharedalikefate，butwasdelightedtofindthatwhilethebrightertrifleshadattractedtheIndians’childishcupiditytheyhadoverlookedaheavyblackmerinoshawlofacheapbutserviceablequality。ItwouldhelptoprotectMissCantirefromtheeveningwind，whichwasalreadyrisingoverthechillandstarkplain。Italsooccurredtohimthatshewouldneedwaterafterherparchedjourney，andheresolvedtolookforaspring，beingrewardedatlastbyatricklingrillneartheambushcamp。Buthehadnoutensilexceptthespiritflask，whichhefinallyemptiedofitscontentsandreplacedwiththepurewater——aheroicsacrificetoatravelerwhoknewthecomfortofastimulant。Heretracedhissteps，andwasjustemergingfromthethicketwhenhisquickeyecaughtsightofamovingshadowbeforehimclosetotheground，whichsetthehotbloodcoursingthroughhisveins。
ItwasthefigureofanIndiancrawlingonhishandsandkneestowardsthecoach，scarcelyfortyyardsaway。ForthefirsttimethatafternoonBoyle’scalmgood-humorwasoversweptbyablindandfuriousrage。Yeteventhenhewassaneenoughtorememberthatapistolshotwouldalarmthegirl，andtokeepthatweaponasalastresource。Foraninstanthecreptforwardassilentlyandstealthilyasthesavage，andthen，withasuddenbound，leapeduponhim，drivinghisheadandshouldersdownagainsttherocksbeforehecouldutteracry，andsendingthescalpingknifehewascarryingbetweenhisteethflyingwiththeshockfromhisbatteredjaw。Boyleseizedit——hiskneestillintheman’sback——buttheprostratebodynevermovedbeyondaslightcontractionofthelowerlimbs。TheshockhadbrokentheIndian’sneck。Heturnedtheinertmanonhisback——theheadhunglooselyontheside。ButinthatbriefinstantBoylehadrecognizedthe“friendly“Indianofthestationtowhomhehadgiventhecard。
Herosedizzilytohisfeet。Thewholeactionhadpassedinafewsecondsoftime，andhadnotevenbeennoticedbythesoleoccupantofthecoach。Hemechanicallycockedhisrevolver，butthemanbeneathhimnevermovedagain。Neitherwasthereanysignofflightorreinforcementfromthethicketaroundhim。Againthewholetruthflasheduponhim。Thisspyandtraitorhadbeenleftbehindbythemarauderstoreturntothestationandavertsuspicion；hehadbeenlurkingaround，butbeingwithoutfirearms，hadnotdaredtoattackthepairtogether。
ItwasamomentortwobeforeBoyleregainedhisusualelasticgood-humor。Thenhecoollyreturnedtothespring，“washedhimselfoftheIndian，“ashegrimlyexpressedittohimself，brushedhisclothes，pickeduptheshawlandflask，andreturnedtothecoach。
Itwasgettingdarknow，buttheglowofthewesternskyshoneunimpededthroughthewindows，andthesilencegavehimagreatfear。Hewasrelieved，however，onopeningthedoor，tofindMissCantiresittingstifflyinacorner。“IamsorryIwassolong，“