“Putyourcarbinedown，“saidMcLeantoLusk。“It’snotrobbers。It’syourwifeI’mbringingyou。“Hespokeveryquietly。
Thehusbandaddressednowordtothecow-puncher“Getin，then，“hesaidtohiswife。
“Town’snotfarnow，“saidLin。“Maybeyouwouldpreferridingthebalanceoftheway？“
“I’d——“ButthenoteofpitythatshefeltinMcLean’squestionovercameher，andherutterancechoked。Shenoddedherhead，andthethreecontinuedslowlyclimbingthehilltogether。
Fromthenarrowsofthesteep，sandy，weather-beatenbanksthattheroadslantedupwardthroughforawhile，theycameoutagainupontheimmensityofthetable-land。Here，abruptlylikeanambush，wasthewholeunsuspectedriverclosebelowtotheirright，asifithademergedfromtheearth。Withacirclingsweepfromsomewhereoutinthegloomitcutinclosetotheloftymesabeneathtallclean-gradeddescentsofsand，smoothasarailroadembankment。Astheypausedontheleveltobreathetheirhorses，thewetgulpofitseddiesrosetothemthroughthestillness。UpstreamtheycouldmakeoutthelightoftheDrybonebridge，butnotthebridgeitself；andtwolightsonthefartherbankshowedwherestoodthehog-ranchoppositeDrybone。Theywentonoverthetable-landandreachedthenextheraldofthetown，Drybone’schiefhistorian，thegraveyard。Beneathitsslantingheadboardsandwind-shiftedsandlaymanymorepeoplethanlivedinDrybone。Theypassedbythefenceofthisshelterlessacreonthehill，andshoutingsandhighmusicbegantoreachthem。Atthefootofthehilltheysawthesparselightsandshapesofthetownwhereendedthegraystripofroad。Themanysounds——feet，voices，andmusic——grewclearer，unravellingfromtheirmuffledconfusion，andthefiddlingbecameatunethatcouldbeknown。“