Dazedly he wondered how it had come about ... somehow, he felt, that girl was at the bottom of the thing. His misfortunes were due to her meddling. He wished he could get his fingers upon her throat. He descended the steps and walked toward the street. The night was dark, dark enough to conceal his movements, perhaps to avert recognition.... A certain confidence came to him. He would get away; he would possess liberty and his intelligence which had served him so well.... There were other places--and he was not old. Perhaps.... As he turned out upon the street a figure confronted him. He halted, drew back. “Abner Fownes,” said a voice, “where are you going?” “You!... You!...” he said, hoarsely. His fingers twitched, fury burned in his heart, and the desire to slay. He looked about him. All was blackness.... Here she was, this girl who was sending him crashing down in ruin.... “He is dead,” said Carmel. “You are a murderer again. Abner Fownes.... You’re running away.” “Out of my way, you--you----” “You’ve killed him,” she said. “You must be punished for that.... You must not go away. You must wait until they come.” “You--you’ve done this--you----” He was working himself into a rage. He was not the man to do a violence in cold blood. “I have done it.... But to what good? He is dead--is dying.... Nothing can pay for that. He will go away from me forever.... Abner Fownes, you are a murderer, and you must pay for it.... Oh, if I could make you pay a thousand, thousand times.... And you shall pay!” He dropped his bag and reached for her throat with clutching fingers. She stepped back, avoiding him. “They are coming now,” she said. “See.... There are their lights.... Wait, Abner Fownes. You cannot get away. If you try to go I shall hold you.” He turned. Up the road approached a multitude of automobile lights. Gibeon was returning from its crusade!... He uttered a shrill, unnatural cry and made as if to rush past her, but Carmel grasped his arm. “Wait,” she said. He waited. A feeling of powerlessness swept over him. A sense of impotence and defeat and despair.... He could not force himself to raise his hand against this girl. He was afraid. He was afraid of _her_. She remained standing in the middle of the walk, blocking his way, but it was unnecessary to block his way. He could not have moved.... A cold, clinging dread was upon him. He was afraid of the night, of the darkness. He dared not be alone with the night.... If Carmel had gone Abner Fownes would have followed her, would have called her back, begged her to stay with him.... The lights of the first car rested upon them, illuminating the spot.... Carmel stepped forward and signaled. The car stopped, halting the procession.... Men got down and surrounded him.... “Where,” said Carmel, “is Sheriff Churchill?” “There,” said a man. “Carry him here,” she ordered, and it was done.