Afterward I
lived on here, close to the place which she had chosen herself for rest.
And I was happy because the boy grew every day into a more perfect
picture of his dead mother.
"One day when he was almost three I rode off through the hills, and when
I came back the boy was gone. I rode with a posse everywhere, hunting
him; aye, Anthony, the trail which I started then I have kept at ever
since, year after year, and here it ends where it began--at the grave of
Joan!
"Finally I came on news that a man much like John Bard in appearance had
been seen near my house that day. Then I knew it was Bard in fact. He
had seen the image of the woman we both loved in the boy. He was all
that was left of her on earth. After these years I can read his heart
clearly; I know why he took the boy.
"Then I left this place. I could not bear the sight of the grave; for
she slept in peace, and I lived in hell waiting for the return of my
son.
"At last I went east; I was at Madison Square Garden and saw you ride.
It was the face of Joan that looked back at me; and I knew that I was
close to the end of the trail.
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