This was the clue: this the end of the tangled cord of things. It was, he felt, utterly idiotic and alarming to know so much and no more. It was infinitely annoying. He said "I'm Pete, am I Pete, I'm Pete, eh!" and then sat staring. He wanted some kind of help, but what help he did not know. The task of discovering what all things were from what seemed the primal fact of all, that he was called Pete, appeared hugely difficult. He cried about it at last. And then some chickens came round the corner of the shack, and pecked in the dust. A big rooster came after them and stood upon a log, and whooped a loud cock-a-doodle-doo! It was a natural sound. Pete knew it and stared with sudden intelligence at the brilliant bird upon the log. Of a sudden the whole veil over all things was lifted. He knew who he was and why he was there and what he had done! Above all he knew what the word "hanged" meant. It was his sister who had said it. He got upon his knees and staggered till he could hold on to the house. It was a help to hold on to something while he thought. "Hanged," said Pete. He had killed a man. Where was he? It was Ned Quin. But if he had killed him how had he got away? "I won't be hanged," said Pete. "I won't. She's gone to tell 'em I've made Ned mimaloose, killed him. I'll stop her!" That was a very clear idea, and the notion satisfied him for a while as he swayed to and fro. But how? The woman with the white linen had taken his horse. It was again a hard problem, but since he knew who he was, things were very much easier, though they were still a struggle. He didn't know how he got there, but presently he found himself in the stable, leading out Ned Quin's horse, a lean and old, but still sound, sorrel. It was wonderful to find that he had a horse already saddled and bridled. He didn't know that he had put the saddle on and cinched up the girths himself. "Now I'm all right. That kloshe," said Pete. He almost forgot in his satisfaction what he wanted the horse for. But presently he remembered that he had to stop that woman (his sister, was she?) from going somewhere. Was there such a place as Kamloops? Very likely there was. Then he saw the gun. "She shot at me," he said with feeble indignation, "I'm bleeding." He wept again. And suddenly he saw all things as clear as day. He had killed Ned: she had shot him and then she had said she would go into Kamloops and denounce him. There wasn't any time to lose. He "hung up" the horse and picked the gun from the ground. He went to the house and opened the door. It was very dark inside and the outside sun was now burning bright. He stumbled across something and only saved himself from falling with great difficulty. What had he stumbled over? He peered on the ground and as the pupils of his eyes dilated he saw a body stretched out with a white cloth over the face. He trembled. "It's--it's Ned," he said, shaking. "They'll hang me!"