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the snake was blown into shreds. Crandall turned to see the boy
holster his smoking gun and run to the unconscious child. It seemed
an eternity as he picked her up gently in his arms and walked toward
Crandall. Thoughts of money and dresses and respectability ran
through Crandall's head during that long moment and were pursued
by those of the fang mark on a little leg, of a headstone on a three-.
foot grave. Respectability, the glittering eyes of a snake ...

"She's all right, Mr. Crandall."

The boy laid her in the shade and turned to face Crandall
squarely.

"Have I earned my right to live?"

Crandall looked at the kid for a long moment before he pulled
the trigger.

Self-justification is a strange force. It is said to be impossible to,
fool one's conscience, but George Crandall managed to forget the
puzzled look on a dying boy's face as he saw his daughter playing
with friends in her new home, as he saw himself accepted in a com-
fortable job and finally elected mayor of a very respectable town. He
was a prominent man now, and Cathy could be proud of her daddy
dwahyo. had saved her from both a killer and a rattlesnake on the same

farewell

Look, look-the moment endeth by mary harbin
failing falls the night.
Have you traveled
where I've traveled

through mirrors into light?
Over, under-swirling sweetness

murmuring moves anew.
Have you wandered
where I've wandered
inside drops of dew?
Listen, listen-voices calling

where the whisper fell.
Have you wept
where I shall weep

to touch the soit farewell?

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