B. M. Bower

“ The wagon settled down suddenly on its four wheels. There was a scurrying rush of some large object—but it was behind the wagon, where Vida could not see because of the canvas top. She did not know where her gun had been put.
"Poppy!" she called in a perfect frenzy of terror. "Poppy! Where are you, poppy? Oh, poppy!"
From behind the wagon—out in the whispering sage, a hoarse scream answered her. Human—and yet not human—mocking, maniacal, horrible. The most awful sound that Vida had ever heard in her life ”

“ Walt Smith came puffing up the slope, and Vida waited for him. A little contemptuous she was—a little impatient because men ran from Burney instead of shooting as she had done. Walt had a gun—why didn't he use it instead of running like a scared rabbit? Burney would not have come after him if Walt had used his gun rather than his legs. She was beginning to understand that Burney was afraid of a gun. A gun was the only thing more powerful, more dangerous, than he was. He could not fight and overcome a bullet ”

“ Vida had crawled back from under the wagon, and the two stood together just within the shadow, staring off into the moonlit, whispering sage which the breeze moved so that it seemed alive.
"A-course it was Burney! He can't fool me! He got out in the moonlight f'r a minute, and I seen him, plainer 'n' what I see you. A-course it was Burney! He's a cute one—purtendin' t' be in Pocatello, 'n' at home, 'n' everywheres but where he is. But he can't fool me. He ain't cute enough. He crawled out 'n' stood up in the moonlight. 'F I'd 'a' had m' gun in m' hands, then I'd 'a' fixed him! ”

“ You can't do nothin' in the dark that-a-way."
"He might be killing Walt Smith!" Vida flung the sentence back at him and ran the faster. But her father stayed by the wagon and shouted commands and imprecations after her as she ran.
She topped the last low ridge that marked the edge of the sage-covered flat where the sheep had been held for safety, and stood still for a minute, panting heavily and trying to see what was taking place out there where the band was huddled. The moon silvered softly the plain. ”

“ A warlock, such as Maggie MacDonald had told about, that haunted the heath behind the village where strange deaths occurred periodically in the dark of the moon. When men and women were found strangled—and none knew how or why. ”

“ All saved me was the bigness of him. He got hung up between the wagon wheels, and he didn't know jest how I was layin'. 'F I'd 'a' had m' bed out'n the open he'd 'a' killed me, sure. Man like that'd oughta be hung up by the heels—over a slow fire! Killin's too good f'r 'im. D'you hear 'm holler, Vida? Tried to sound like a mount'n lion, so's to fool me—but it didn't work worth a cent. He can't fool me! I seen him when he raised up 'n' turned tail 'n' run. I seen 'im plain as day."
"And was it—Burney, poppy?" ”

“ But that did not offset the sheriff's amazing statement nor the mystery of the tracks that had disappeared.
There was a minute or two of whispered consultation and a question which the foreman asked the coroner concerning the manner of death.
"I find," replied the coroner, "that the deceased undoubtedly came to his death by having his neck broken by twisting. Four ribs were broken also, evidently by crushing. There are no bullet wounds—the only other marks of violence on the body being some scratches on the scalp behind the ear. ”