sidewise; "why the devil do I always have creatures on my hands that are flying to pieces?"
He was irritated that money he had given should be thrown away, yet he felt pity, and a sort of responsibility for the man on the road, as he was inclined to feel for all beings weaker than himself. He drew the mare in to a slow undulating pace and looked behind him.
Dust, many times dry, stood up in a cloud, and in that haze he could make out something which a few minutes before might have been an upright human figure, but now had become more like an animal nosing for a scent, crouching close to the ground, making quick darts uncertainly here and there in the road. Carron watched with dubious amusement. "He'll not find it again—that's sure; as well hunt in a pit of ashes. Might go back and give him another." He consulted his watch, and his pockets. "No," he determined, "I'm too close nipped as it is—and besides, if he has misdirected me, as for all I know he probably has, he's only got what's coming to him."
But this last conclusion was put forth for comfort. He didn't believe it. He felt as certain that the fellow had spoken the truth then, as he had been sure, before, that he had lied. Those violent denials, the brazen way he had stood ready to eat his words—they had been but so many reassurances that the
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