He knew the dear desire her determination masked--to do her part in softening prejudice, in clearing his way--and the thought of her great-heartedness brought a mist to his eyes. He rose and walked with her through the bracken to the road. They came out to the driveway just below the trail that led to the Knob. The bank was high, and leaping first he held up his arms to her and lifted her lightly down. In the instant, as she lay in his arms, he bent and kissed her on the lips. Neither noted two figures walking together that at that moment rounded the bend of the road a little way above. They were Tom Felder and Doctor Brent, the latter swinging a light suit-case, for he was on his way to the station of the valley railroad. He had chosen to walk that he might have a longer chat with his friend. Both men saw the kiss and instinctively drew back, the lawyer with a sudden color on his face, the doctor with a look of blank astonishment. The latter, in one way, knew little about the town. Beside Felder and Mrs. Halloran, whose surly husband he had once doctored when the town's practitioner was away--thereby earning her admiration and gratitude--there were few with whom he had more than a nodding acquaintance. He had liked David Stires, and Jessica he genuinely admired, though he had thought her at times somewhat distant. He himself had introduced Felder to her, on one of the latter's visits. He had not observed that the young lawyer's calls had grown more frequent, nor guessed that he had more than once loitered on the mountain trails hoping to meet her. The doctor noted now the telltale flush on his companion's face. "We have surprised a romance," he said, as the two unconscious figures disappeared down the curving stretch. "Who is the man?" "He is the one we have been talking about." The other stared. "Not your local Jekyll and Hyde, the sneak who lost his memory and found himself an honest man?" Felder nodded. "His cabin is just below here, on the hillside." "Good Lord!" ejaculated the doctor. "What an infernal pity! What's his name?" "Hugh Stires." "Stires?" the other repeated. "Stires? How odd!" He stood a moment, tapping his suit-case with his stick. Suddenly he took the lawyer's arm and led him into the side-path. "Come," he said, "I want to show you something." He led the way quickly to the Knob, where he stopped, as much astonished as his companion, for he had known nothing of the statue. They read the words chiselled on its base. "The prodigal son," said Felder. "Now look at the name on the headstone," said the physician. Felder's glance lifted from the stone, to peer through the screening bushes to the cabin on the shelf below, and returned to the other's face with quick comprehension. "You think--"