No light now came from the conflagration he was desiring to witness, but there would be, as soon as he emerged once more into the open. He went on cautiously, until he came out into the moonlight again. Yonder to the right of him was the fire, still burning brightly, sending up a flickering blaze. He hurried his pace as much as possible over the road, and now saw a lone horseman speeding like the wind toward him. In another moment he passed. His head was uncovered, but that was not unnatural. It was all right; he knew him not. This lone horseman turned in his saddle and glanced at Wade when he had got past him, never a moment allowing his steed to slacken his pace. That was also all right. They did not know each other. Wade hurried on, finally reaching the burning building, where he found not a living thing, human nor beast, nothing saving the dying embers of a burning home. The light from the burning barn was brighter, and as he glanced that way he discovered a poor horse lying by the gate in the agonies of death. "Poor fellow," he thought, as he watched him breathe his last, "your useful days are over; nothing can save you now." Wade looked farther. On all sides he saw nothing but charred ruins, dark devastation, no sign of human nor animal life--not even a sign of vegetable life. No noise, not even the deep bay or the low whine of the farmhouse dog greeted his ears. Again he turned back into the darkness of the night and made his way to his cabin, none the wiser for having taken the trip. CHAPTER III Jack Wade was neither physically nor mentally afflicted. His great body was physically strong, his mind was symmetrically powerful. His college training prepared him to face the many difficult problems of life, his elect wisdom led him carefully at all times, and his athletic ability stood him well in hand on many occasions. As he sat pondering, he wondered over the peculiar fact that not a soul in the entire valley with whom he had talked had been willing to breathe one word concerning the great conflagration of a few nights previous. No one ever spoke of it, as though nothing so important had ever happened. Yet one man had lost, in little more time than an hour, what it had taken a lifetime to accumulate.