He rose from his chair and moved toward the bag, lifted it in his hand, and tossed it back again so that the gold in it chinked loudly.

Then he went to the narrow aperture and blocked it with his body and listened until he knew that if there had been human life in the room he would have heard it.
The outer door was open and through it there came to him the soft breath of the night air and the sweetness of balsam and wild flowers.

It struck him that it would be pleasanter waiting outside than in, and it would undoubtedly make no difference to Obadiah Price.

In front of the cabin he found the stump of a log and seating himself on it where the clear light of the stars fell full upon him he once more began his interrupted smoke.

It seemed to him that he had waited a long time when he heard the sound of footsteps.