It was probably a
fire lighted by settlers trailing to the farther north. While the night
wore on he rode as slowly back to the town as he had galloped from it
like a centaur with a captive.
Again and again Molly Mackinder's face came before him; but he resolutely
shut it out of his thoughts. He felt that he had no right to think of
her until he had "done the right thing" by Jopp and by La Touche. Yet
the look in her face as the curtain came down, it was not that of one
indifferent to him or to what he did. He neared the town half-way
between midnight and morning. Almost unconsciously avoiding the main
streets, he rode a roundabout way towards the little house where
Constantine Jopp lived. He could hear loud noises in the streets,
singing, and hoarse shouts. Then silence came, then shouts, and silence
again. It was all quiet as he rode up to Jopp's house, standing on the
outskirts of the town. There was a bright light in the window of a room.
Jopp, then, was still up. He would not wait till tomorrow. He would do
the right thing now.
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