"Good-by, Nora." There was something attractive in young Jack Wade's bearing that caused Nora Judson to look long after him as he wended down the road toward his own cabin. Once he looked back and saw her still standing at the gate, where he left her. Her hands were clasped before her, she stood erect, looking neither to the right nor to the left, but straight in front of her. Jack waved his hand, but she did not return the wave. When he was a long way off he turned and looked again. She still stood motionless, gazing out into the far beyond, her dress waving in the gentle wind, her tresses, wafted by the gentle breezes, falling about her crimson cheeks. CHAPTER IV The cool air of the early morning, blowing down from the mountain, is refreshing and invigorating to Jack Wade, who is standing in the door of his cabin leaning against the facing leisurely, taking in with his eye the broad expanse of the valley before him. He inhales deeply of the pure fresh Kentucky morning air, while his athletic frame quivers in the light of the rising sun. The eastern horizon was all aglow with the brightness shining through the flitting snow-white clouds. It was a beautiful picture, so he stood silent, drinking in the scenery of the surrounding country with great pleasure. Behind him, unknown to his waiting heart, stood a pure, sweet girl, gazing out through the deep mist of the morning, as if to penetrate the very depths to a distance where she might get one glimpse of the single man who had unconsciously awakened within her soul a new life, a new hope. A new being sprang up within her, her soul longed for the time when she could see him and hear his musical voice speaking to her inner life and vibrating to the deepest depths of her quivering young heart. Wade thought of her often, but only as a newborn, unopened bud. He thought of her oftener than he felt he should, but he couldn't help that. Still, a flush of feeling came into his heart when he did think of her. What was it? What was this dark-eyed daughter of a tobacco planter to him that he should quit his pondering when the memory of her crossed his mind or when her crimson face rose like a vision before his eyes? She must be regarded as secondary. Other matters claimed his attention first, and should receive strict and careful consideration. But he could not resist. Temptation, ah, temptation! thou art the power which overcomes strong man. Wade threw the saddle on his horse, strapped his rifle on the saddle, and rode up the road toward the climbing sun, toward the towering mountain, intending to take a few hours in hunting, and casting over the views on the other side. When he reached Peter Judson's cabin he hesitated. "The attraction, the hoss, hit brung him." Old Peter was stringing some new wire along the outer fence and did not notice Wade's approach; if he had noticed him he did not let on.