The other man pressed his hand: “Ned, I believe it—I believe it. Go back to your little home to-night. Your daughter is safe. To-morrow you may begin all over again. To-morrow—”
“And you, Dick—I have heard—I can guess, but why may not you, to-morrow—”
“There will be no to-morrow for me,” he said sadly. “Things stop suddenly before me to-night as before an abyss—”
He turned quickly and looked toward the low lying range of mountains. A great red flush as of a rising sun glowed even beyond the rim of them, and then out of it shot tinges of flame.
Conway saw it at the same instant:
“It's the mill—the mill's afire,” he said.