He had inherited
depraved instincts and tastes, and with them somewhere in him a
strand of weakness that prevented him from slaying the giants he
had to oppose in the making of a good character. From bad to
worse he had gone, and here he lay with the drizzling rain on his
white face, a warning and a lesson to wayward youths just setting
their feet in the wrong direction. Surely it was kismet.
Ned Bannister untied the handkerchief from his neck and laid it
across the face of his kinsman. A moment longer he looked down,
then passed his hands across his eyes and seemed to brush away
the memories that thronged him. He stepped forward to the fire
and warmed his hands.
"We'll go on, Mac, to the rendezvous he had appointed with his
outfit. We ought to reach there by noon, and the boys can send a
wagon back to get the bodies."
CHAPTER 23. JOURNEYS END IN LOVERS' MEETING
It had been six days since the two Ned Bannisters had ridden away
together into the mountains, and every waking hour since that
time had been for Helen one of harassing anxiety. No word had yet
reached her of the issue of that dubious undertaking, and she
both longed and dreaded to hear. He had promised to send a
messenger as soon as he had anything definite to tell, but she
knew it would be like his cousin, too, to send her some
triumphant word should he prove the victor in the struggle
between them.
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