The voices out on the field were hushed. All was quiet, soundless with the utter silence of deep hidden places.
He was lying on the ground beside the door, staring up at the black glistening roof that was moving down upon him. He didn't think any more. He was very tired.
A hulking shadow stood over him. He felt it more than saw it. He saw two hands reach down. They dragged him across the field. He could see everything quite clearly but his eyes seemed set in a vise-like single focus. He noticed the twin tracks his heels made in the frost on the field....
Then it was warm, a soft clinging warmth that seemed to flow throughout his tired body—like life flowing into him again. He was lying on something soft and comfortable.
He opened his eyes, saw a woman's face before him.
Ricker stared at the face a long time. It was a perfect oval, wreathed in jet black hair, molded with deft yet full lips and a firm nose. The eyes were green. It was Molly Borden. Her green eyes were glistening, wet with tears....
"Why did you save me, Molly Borden?" he asked finally.
"I am not Molly Borden," she said. "I am Dorothy Adison."
The words meant nothing to Ricker for a moment. He just lay there staring up at her. Then with a shock like cold water, the meaning of her words crashed upon him.