The Last Woman

Roderick Duncan traveled westward in a special train made up of his own private car, a regular Pullman, and a diner. With his valet for company, Duncan constituted the personnel of the first of these; the second was occupied by the Reverend Doctor Moreley, his wife and two daughters. The reverend gentleman was aware of a part of the purpose of that trip; the members of his family were yet to be told of it. A lavish use of the magician, Money, had prepared everything in advance for Duncan, and he had now only to carry out the arrangements he had made. There was a slight delay in making the start, but after that all things moved as smoothly as possible. Ultimately, the special train was sidetracked at a point that was within a few miles of the house and outbuildings of Three-Star ranch.

The state of Montana held no finer ranch and range, no better or more up-to-date buildings, no better outfit in all respects, than Three-Star. The house, set well up along the side of a hill, faced toward the south, and commanded a view which had been the pride of its former owners, before Richard Morton bought up all the rangeland in that locality and converted it into one huge estate of his own. A broad veranda extended from end to end, at the front, and from that vantage point miles upon miles of rich pasture could be seen, dotted with grazing thousands of cattle. Trees, set out with a view to the future, by the creators of the ranch, imparted an aspect of homely comfort, of seclusion, peace and contentment to it all.

Just at sundown when Patricia Langdon came through the wide door and stepped out upon the veranda toward the broad flight of steps which led down to the flowered inclosure in front of the house, she stopped suddenly, her right hand flew toward her throat, and her face, flushed and angry until that instant, went as pale as death itself. She gasped and caught her breath, swayed a second where she stood, and then drew herself upright again; and she stood straight and tall and brave, face to face with Roderick Duncan who appeared at the top step at the instant when Patricia advanced toward it.

For a space, neither one uttered a word, or made another gesture, save that, in the first instant, Roderick raised his hat in silent salutation, and now stood with it held in his hand.

Patricia's first act was to cast a half-furtive and wholly apprehensive glance over her shoulder, toward the doorway through which she had just passed. Then, she sprang forward like a young fawn and darted down the steps toward the pathway.