The young man was thinking how he might present himself without seeming rude, when, all at once, a cry came from the lips of the young lady. It was a short, sharp exclamation, apparently called forth by some impending danger. It seemed a sufficient apology for intruding. Accepting it as such, the stranger sprang across the creek, and rushed direct to the orchard. In a few seconds he stood confronting the girl, who had turned towards the house. "I heard you cry out," he said; "was there any danger. May I ask--" But, before he had finished the interrogatory, he saw what had elicited the exclamation. A huge snake lay coiled under one of the trees! It had been feasting on the fallen fruit, and, nearly trodden upon, had thrown itself into the defensive attitude. The "skirr" caused by the vibration of its tail told it to be a rattle-snake. Without inquiring further, the young man raised his rifle, and sent a bullet through its head. Its coils flew out, and, after struggling a few seconds on the grass the reptile lay dead. "Thanks, sir," said the lady, as soon as she had recovered from her surprise. "I came near setting my foot upon it, and, perhaps, would have done so, if I'd not heard the rattle. You're a good shot, sir; you've killed it outright!" "I've had a deal of practice, _Miss_," he replied, laying a marked emphasis on the last word. His heart throbbed audibly, as he awaited the rejoinder. Would she accept the title, or correct it? He had already glanced at her left hand, holding a peach she had plucked. There were rings; but among them he saw not the plain circlet nor its keeper. Their absence inspired him with hope. "One can easily see that," she rejoined. "Besides, I am not unacquainted with the way of the woods. My father is a hunter, or was." "You say _was_, _Miss_. Is your father still living?" The question was asked with a double design. Would she still permit herself to be called "Miss?" Was Jerry Rook the owner of the pretty house that had supplanted his rude sheiling? "My father living? Certainly, sir; but he does not go hunting any more--or only at times. He has enough to keep him occupied about home-- clearing the ground and planting the crops." "Is he at home now?" "To-day, no. He has ridden over to Helena. I expect he will be back soon. Do you wish to see him, sir. You have some business, perhaps?" "No, no. I was merely wandering through the woods, squirrel shooting. I had strayed to the other side of the creek, when I heard you cry." "It was very kind of you to come to my assistance," said the young girl, giving to the stranger a glance, in which she did not fail to note his graceful bearing. Then, observing the dust upon his garments, she added, "If I mistake not, you're a stranger to this part of the country?" "I once knew it well, especially around this place." "Indeed!"