They could dimly perceive each other. The horses drew
closer together. With his flash covered by his poncho, Banneker
consulted a compass and altered their course, for he wished to give the
station, to which Gardner might have returned, a wide berth. Io moved up
abreast of him as he stood, studying the needle. Had he turned the light
upward he would have seen that she was smiling. Whether he would have
interpreted that smile, whether, indeed, she could have interpreted it
herself, is doubtful.
Presently they picked up the line of telegraph poles, well beyond the
station, just the faintest suggestion of gaunt rigor against the
troubled sky, and skirted them, moving more rapidly in the confidence of
assured direction. A very gradual, diffused alleviation of the darkness
began to be felt. The clouds were thinning. Something ahead of them
hissed in a soft, full, insistent monosonance. Banneker threw up a
shadowy arm. They dismounted on the crest of a tiny desert clifflet, now
become the bank of a black current which nuzzled and nibbled into its
flanks.
Io gazed intently at the flood which was to deliver her out of the hands
of the Philistine. How far away the other bank of the newborn stream
might be, she could only guess from the vague rush in her ears.
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