Standing there, looking rather blankly about, holding that pen in his hand he was in ludicrous contrast to the furious Hilton. It made the other man seem absurd, his raging like the burlesque of some clowning actor. With a helpless, choking oath Hilton turned, livid with rage, and strode for the doorway. "For the last time I've been made a fool of!" he cried, and hastened up the path. They heard him mount his horse and ride away. Jane was too busied with more somber thoughts to appreciate the humor of the situation; she did later. Even had she been able to give attention to the contrast between Hilton's rage and the chagrin which followed so closely, the change in the Reverend would have diverted her attention. He stood looking at her with grief in his eyes and when he spoke his voice shook. "I feel that I have done my duty, ma'am, but that is all Azariah Beal has to say for himself. There has been no result. I may have been too late in my attempt. Surely, there is nothing more to be done.... "Nothing more, unless you may succeed in ridding yourself of your enemies." "Do you think that would have an effect on Bobby Cole?" He nodded gravely. "You and she have something in common: an enemy." "He has been here tonight? You mean that Hilton is my enemy in the sense that he may imperil the future of the HC?" "The same, ma'am." "Reverend, it is likely that you are right. I am beginning to see a connection between factors which have seemed to be unrelated." He started to speak but a shout checked him. They listened to a confusion of voices. "Something's wrong," Beal said and stepped to the veranda. "Why ... somebody's hurt!" Jane ran to the doorway but he had already started up the path. She followed as she saw a close huddle of men about the lighted doorway of the bunk house move slowly in, carrying a burden gently and as she neared the building a rather tragic quiet marked the group. Nigger, Two-Bits' horse, was standing saddled in the path of light. Inside a man was lying face down on the floor. The Reverend knelt beside him, leaning forward, and others stood close, silent and grave. The prostrate man was Two-Bits and his shoulders dripped blood. As Jane became a part of the group he stirred and struggled to raise his head. "What is it, brother?" Azariah asked gently, turning Two-Bits over and supporting his head. "Tell us. You're not done for. It's ripped your back open, but that's all. Who was it?" The other looked about slowly with bewildered eyes. "From behind," he said weakly. "They got me from behind...." His gaze wavered from face to face and finally rested on Jane's. He moved feebly. "A big bunch of your cattle must be in th' Hole, ma'am," he said. "There ain't ... any water there.... I was keepin' 'em ... out ... an' somebody got me from behind.... They must of waited ... to get me ... from behind.... And the only water's ... in fence.... "It looks like ... a lot of trouble, ma'am...."