"
Yet in spite of this formula he was deadly cold, as if a wind were
blowing through his naked soul. It was not fear. It was something beyond
fear, and he would not have been otherwhere for any reward. All his mind
remained poised, expectant, as the astronomer waits for the new star
which his calculations have predicted to enter the field of his
telescope.
He caught the sound of another horse coming, far different even to his
unpracticed ear from the beat of hoofs which announced the coming of
Buck Daniels. The rhythm of their fall was slower, as if the stride of
the animal were much longer. He pictured a mighty creature with a vast
mane blown back against the chest of a giant rider. There was a murmur
from Kate: "Dan, my dear, my dear!"
Then he heard a padding footfall, hardly louder than the light, light
step of the wolf. The knob of the door turned slowly, without a sound;
it opened, and a man stepped in. He was not larger than the doctor; a
slender fellow, almost dapper in his dress, with hardly a sign of travel
about him, except that the brim of his sombrero was folded back from his
face as if from continual pressure of wind. These things Randall Byrne
noted vaguely; what he was sharply aware of were the eyes of the man. He
had the feeling that he had seen them before; he remembered the yellow
light that had swirled in the eyes of the wolf at the window.
The newcomer flashed a glance about the room, yet for all its speed it
seemed to linger an instant on each face, and when it crossed the stare
of Byrne the doctor shrank.
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