“I have absolutely nothing that I can call my own. Would you accept this ring of mine as a token of my gratitude, and sometimes wear it in memory of me? When you look at it, think that somewhere in this weary world there is one heart that will be grateful to you until it ceases to beat.” He pulled a ring from his finger and put it into her hand. At the same time he stooped his tall form and softly kissed her forehead, saying: “God bless you!” Olive’s eyes were full of tears. “You must be going or it will be too late,” she said with a sob. “Yes, I must not tarry.” He looked to his revolver, jerked his cartridge-case round into a more convenient position for rapidly opening it, and took up his hat. “Where is your horse?” “I hitched him to the bars.” “Then I will take the lantern and light you on your way. The night is very dark. Once on horseback you can ride by the light of the stars,” said Olive. “Yes, I’ll shape my course for the Missouri border, if I can run the gauntlet of the people here. Once I reach a town and civilization I shall be all right.” They went to the bars, Olive holding her little lantern which threw a feeble ray along the pathway. “Great God!” cried Cotterell. “Oh, what is it? Are they coming after you?” said Olive in alarm, dropping her lantern which instantly went out. “My horse is gone!” said Cotterell, whose eyes were now becoming accustomed to the darkness. “I left him hitched here. He was a wild young colt, not half broken. See, this is the lariat-rope wrenched in two. I was a fool to trust to that rope, and a double-dyed fool to leave him here in the dark. But I was too hungry and too sleepy to think clearly of what I was doing. That sleep will cost me my life. I shall have plenty of time to sleep, aye forever, if daylight catches me here. Mrs. Weston will you add one more benefit to the many that have gone before? Will you give me a horse?” “Oh, so gladly if I had one,” said Olive, beginning to cry with grief and helplessness. “Haven’t you any horses?” asked Cotterell with a gasp. “No. Ezra and Brother Huntley have taken two teams to Mapleton.” “Are there no more about the place?” “Only our two that were out on the prairie. Brother Wright was to hunt for them.” “Did he find them?” “I don’t know. Perhaps he did.” “Then you must give me one of them. They are yours.” “They are not mine. Oh, I have not anything in this dreadful Community. It is horrible,” wailed Olive. “Don’t, pray don’t,” said Cotterell feeling for her hand in the darkness and crushing it in a passionate grasp. “Come with me and help me get one.” “What! steal one of our horses?” “Yes, God help me! if that must be the word. If I live, the Community shall have the horse’s price ten times over. If I am hanged, put it down for the Recording Angel’s tears. Come.” “The horses are not here. They are at Brother Wright’s if anywhere.” “Can you find the way in the dark? Then come all the same.”