ath had called up the faint-colored
ghost of youth, and McLean remembered all his Bear Creek days. "Hind
sight is a turruble clear way o' seein' things," said he. "I think I'll
take a walk."

"Go," said Barker. "The jury only need me, and I'll join you."

But the jury needed no witness. Their long waiting and the advance pay
had been too much for these responsible men. Like brothers they had
shared each others' vouchers until responsibility had melted from their
brains and the whiskey was finished. Then, no longer entertained and
growing weary of Drybone, they had remembered nothing but their distant
beds. Each had mounted his pony, holding trustingly to the saddle, and
thus, unguided, the experienced ponies had taken them right. Across the
wide sagebrush and up and down the river they were now asleep or riding,
dispersed irrevocably. But the coroner was here. He duly received
Barker's testimony, brought his verdict in, and signed it, and even
while he was issuing to himself his own proper voucher for ten dollars
came Chalkeye and Toothpick Kid on their ponies, galloping, eager in
their hopes and good wishes for Mrs. Lusk. Life ran strong in them both.
The night had gone well with them. Here was the new day going to be
fine. It must be well with everybody.

"You don't say!" they exclaimed, taken aback. "Too bad."

They sat still in their saddles, and upon their reckless, kindly faces
thought paused for a moment. "Her gone!" they murmured. "Hard to get
used to the idea. What's anybody doing about the coffin?"

"Mr. Lusk," answered Slaghammer, "doubtless--"

"Lusk! He'll not know anything this forenoon. He's out there in the
grass. She didn't think nothing of him. Tell Bill--not Dollar Bill,
Jerky Bill, yu' know; he's over the bridge--to fix up a hearse, and
we'll be back." The two drove their spurs in with vigorous heels, and
instantly were gone rushing up the road to the graveyard.

The fiddle had lately ceased, and no dancers stayed any longer in the
hall. Eastward the rose and gold began to flow down upon the plain over
the tops of the distant hills. Of the revellers, many had never gone to
bed, and many now were already risen from their excesses to revive in
the cool glory of the morning. Some were drinking to stay their hunger
until breakfast; some splashed and sported in the river, calling and
joking; and across the river some were holding horse-races upon the
level beyond the hog-ranch. Drybone air rang wit