Then she saw Satan galloping up the path and come to a sliding halt
where he stood with his delicate nose close to the face of the master.
There was no struggle with death, only a sigh like a motion of wind in far
off trees, and then, softly, easily Black Bart extricated himself from the
master, and moved away down the path, all wolf, all wild. Behind him, Satan
whirled with a snort, and they rushed away into the night each in an
opposite direction. The long companionship of the three was ended, and the
seventh man was dead for Grey Molly.
Lee Haines and Buck Daniels were around her now. She heard nothing
distinctly, only a great, vague clamor of voices while she kneeled and
turned the body of Barry on its back. It was marvelously light; she could
almost have picked it up in her arms, she felt. She folded the hands across
his breast, and the limp fingers were delicate as the fingers of a sick
child. Buck Daniels lay prone by the dead man weeping aloud; and Lee Haines
stood with his face buried in his hands; but there was no tear on the face
of Kate.
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