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He swung to the saddle, put spurs to his pony, and cantered away.

She could scarce believe it, even when he rode straight over the

hill without a backward glance. He would never leave her. Surely

he would not do that. She could never reach the camp, and he knew

it. To be left alone in the desert again; the horror of it broke

her down, but not immediately. She went proudly forward with her

head in the air at first. He might look round. Perhaps he was

peeping at her from behind some cholla. She would not gratify him

by showing any interest in his whereabouts. But presently she

began to lag, to scan draws and mesas anxiously for him, even to

call aloud in an ineffective little voice which the empty hills

echoed faintly. But from him there came no answer.