“The future is all dark and terrible, but I am going. I am going with Jerry. I am going wherever he wants, I am what he wants to make me. It’s only death that can break the spell. Good-by, dearest, darlingest Uncle Jim. Oh, good-by! If I could only see you again for one minute! Even when you read this and realize what I have done I know that you will love me and make excuses for me, I who will be no longer worthy your love or your pity.” The Colonel’s hand with the letter crushed in it dropped to his side. For a moment he stood rigid, his face gray in the gas light. It was too unexpected a blow to be grasped in the first paralyzing second. Then he turned furiously on the servant, shouting: “Where did she go? Where did she go?” The man cowered terrified against the wall, stammering in broken phrases, “I no savvy! How I savvy? She go with a bag. She say, ‘Give him the letter’ and I give him. You read him. I no savvy any more.” The Colonel’s hand on his chest forcing him back against the door-post cut short his words: “When did she go? How long ago? Answer honestly, or, by God, I’ll kill you!” His face added to the man’s terror, but it also steadied his shaking nerves: “She go not one hour; thlee-quarters. She come to me with bag and say, ‘Good-by, Sing, I go for long time.’ She give me the letter and say give him to you Tuesday, Wednesday. Then she go.” “Which way?” “I don’t see. I don’t look. I go down stairs. I go sleep on my bed. I hear bell and wake. That’s all.” The Colonel released him and turned to the door. The man evidently knew no more than he said. She had been gone less than an hour. That was all there was to tell. As he ran down the long stairs he had no definite idea in his mind. She had left to run away with Jerry three-quarters of an hour earlier. That was all he thought of for the moment. Then the frosty sharpness of the night air began to act with tonic force upon him. His brain cleared and he remembered Rion’s words. Half an hour ago Barclay was still in the mine. There had evidently been some delay in his coming up. No trains left the town as late as that. June had gone somewhere to meet him, to some place of rendezvous whence they would probably drive into Reno. If Barclay had not yet left the mine he could be caught, and then---- With wild speed he ran along the streets, leaping down the short flights of steps that broke the ascending sidewalks. He thrust people aside and rushed on, gray-faced and fiery-eyed. For the second time in his life there was murder in his heart.