She saw the fisherman as he threw the line far out, with a strong, high swing of his long arm. And as she looked, a lusty bass--heavy, full of fight--took the hook, and she saw the man stand motionless, intent, alert, at the instant he first felt the fish. Then she caught the skillful turn of his wrist as he struck--quick and sure; watched, with breathless interest as--bracing himself--the fisherman's powerful figure became instinct with life. With the boiling water grasping his legs, clinging to him like a tireless wrestler seeking the first unguarded moment; and with the plunging, tugging, rushing giant at the other end of the silken line--fighting with every inch of his spring--steel body for freedom, Dan made a picture to bring the light of admiration to any woman's eyes. And Hope Farwell was very much a woman. Slowly, but surely, the strength and skill of the fisherman prevailed. The master of the waters came nearer the hand of his conqueror. The young woman held her breath while the fish made its last, mad attempt, and then--when Dan held up his prize for the Doctor, who--on the bank--had been in the fight with his whole soul, she forgot her embarrassment, and--springing into full view upon the trunk of the fallen tree--shouted and waved her congratulations. Dan almost dropped the fish. The Doctor, whose old eyes were not so quick to recognize the woman on the log, was amazed to see his companion go splashing, stumbling, ploughing through the water toward the shore. "Hope--Miss Farwell!" gasped Dan, floundering up the bank, the big fish still in his hand, the shining water streaming from his high boots, his face glowing with healthful exercise--a something else, perhaps. "What good fortune brings you here?" At his impetuous manner, and the eagerness that shone in his eyes, and sounded in his voice, the woman's face had grown rosy red, but by the time the fisherman had gained a place by her side the memory of her mission had driven every other thought from her mind. Briefly she told him of Deborah's trouble, and a few moments later the Doctor--crossing the creek higher up--joined them. As they talked Hope saw all the light and joy go from Dan's face, and in its place came a look of sadness and determination that made her wonder. "Doctor," he said, "I am going back to Corinth with Miss Farwell tonight. We'll get a team and buggy at the Mills." The old man swore heartily. Why had not the foolish Irishwoman let them know her situation before? Still swearing he drew from his pocket a book and hastily signed a check. "Here, Dan," he said, "use this if you have to. You understand--don't hesitate if you need it." Reluctantly the younger man took the slip of paper. "I don't think it will be needed," he responded. "It ought not to be necessary for you to do this, Doctor."