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Updated: May 4, 2025
He had seen Fyles approach Kate's home from his eyrie on the valley slope, and that hopeless impulse belonging to a weakly nature, that self-pitying desire to further lacerate his own feelings, had sent him seeking to intercept the man whom he felt in his inmost heart was his successful rival for all that which he most desired on earth.
As he reached the main trail of the village, he saw Inspector Fyles and Sergeant McBain riding down from the west, and the sight of them reminded him of his mail. So, leaving his friend to continue his way to the saloon alone, he went on to his little office, arriving in time to take down a telegraphic message from Amberley, and hand it, with his mail, to the police officer.
And so Tresler, comparatively inexperienced as he was, thought, as he surveyed the prospect in the moonlight from the back of his mare. He was accompanied by Sheriff Fyles, and the two men were estimating the chances they were likely to have against possible invaders. "How goes the time?" asked the sheriff, after a few moments' silent contemplation of the scene.
I I had this message which said he'd be here by sundown, and and I thought I'd just come right along and meet him. Have have you seen him? And and " Fyles shook his head. "Not until just now," he said kindly. "He's about four miles back. Say," he added, with less assurance, "maybe your sister's home?" For a moment Helen stared incredulously. "Yes," she answered slowly.
Oh, God, I have paid for my wanton folly and wickedness. Oh, God!" Kate buried her face in her hands, and abruptly flung herself into the rocker close behind her. Fyles looked down upon her in amazed helplessness. He watched the woman's heaving shoulders as great, dry, hard sobs broke from her in tearless agony.
"Say, I'm just sick to death handin' out drinks this day." Holy Dick grinned, his bloodshot eyes twinkling with an evil leer, which was never far from their expression. "With things sportin' busy as they done to-day, guess you won't need to keep at it long. Say, Fyles has brought you dollars an' dollars." The old rascal gulped down his drink and slouched out of the bar chuckling.
Hardy ruffians as they were they knew well enough that if they had the bodies for this work, he had a head that was far cleverer even than that of Inspector Fyles himself. Meanwhile the leader had moved out into the center of the track, and his eyes were turned westward, toward the bend round the great hill.
It was some moments before Bill's slow-moving wit came to his aid. He was so startled that it was even slower than usual. "You and Fyles?" he said at last, his eyes full of absurd wonder. "I don't understand. You you are not against the law?" Bill's wonder had changed to apprehension, and the sight of it distracted his brother's more serious mood.
"Won't you go on?" he said, in the gentlest possible tone. "It will help you. And you would rather tell me." The firmness of his manner, the gentleness, had a heartbreaking effect. In a moment the woman's eyes were flooded with tears, which coursed down her cheeks. It was the relief that her poor troubled brain and nerves demanded, and so Fyles understood.
His coming had been so sudden, his stay so brief, and his departure so rapid, that Fyles had achieved something of his purpose in repairing any damage Superintendent Jason had done to his plans in acting contrary to his subordinate's wishes. The sharp-eyed villagers had witnessed the interview with suspicions lulled.
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