He reeled and nearly fell and recovered himself and ran on, but the little stone had put the mark of Cain upon him.
The stranger lay still in the road.

I lifted his head and dropped it quickly with a strange sickness.

The feel of it and the way it fell back upon the ground when I let go scared me, for I knew that he was dead.
The dust around him was wet.

I ran down the hill a few steps and stopped and whistled to my filly.

I could hear her answering whinny far down the dusty road and then her hoofs as she galloped toward me.