"Dad is far away just now, and if I say I like you, Nora, it is because I do, and your Dad can know that much if he so desires. I do not mean to deceive him, nor would I deceive you for all the world and this big mountain thrown in." He peered down into those great dark eyes, which met his gaze with unflinching, gleaming admiration. "It's so pleasant here," he added. "Ain't it pleasant in the big city?" she asked doubtfully. The outer world now held a certain charm which to her had not been known before. "Not so pleasant as it is here on the mountain side," he replied. "Listen, Nora. In the city you cannot hear the rippling waters as they dance down the rocky pathway over the hill to the stream beyond. You cannot listen to the song of the wild morning bird as he cries out in his great freedom from his lofty perch in yonder tree top; you cannot inhale the pure fresh air as it glides gently over the brushy way; you cannot hear the rustling of the dry leaves as you do here, therefore, it is not so pleasant in the big city." "Ye gets used to that here," she said. "You get used to the clanging bells, to the snorting whistles, and to the dusty, smoky atmosphere in the city, too, but there is still a difference. There you see people at all hours of the day and night busily rushing to and fro, this way and that, rushing, pushing, jamming, nothing more." "I think I would like that for a while," she said. "No, you wouldn't. Not long. It is not near so pleasant there as it is here, and by your side." He slipped his arm around her waist. She made no effort to disengage it. "It's so ple----" "What's that?" she said, startled. A rifle shot, followed by a wild yell, broke the peaceful stillness of the mountain air. She leaned her head far over and listened. "That's Al Thompson," she cried. "Let's be a-goin'. When he's that away I don't want to meet him. He's dangerous." She broke from his grasp and stood erect, listening. "I have no fear of Al Thompson, nor any other man," he said, rising. "Where this arm falls power falls with it. I am monarch of the hill just now." He was dramatic, and she admired his great physique and brave words. "Ye don't know Al," she said. "He's been drinkin', an' is not accountable for his actions, so we'd better be a-gittin'." "If you have no confidence in my strength," he said angrily, "we shall go." She felt a little hurt. "I didn't mean to," she said slowly, "but I want you to go so's you'll be safe." They started off, but before they cleared the opening that hideous yell broke the otherwise dead silence, and Al Thompson darted through the thicket like a madman, brandishing his pistol over his head, and with a roar of anger, cried out: "I've got ye now, durn ye', an' ye'll never see daylight agin. Hit ther road, gal, while I lay him out like a dog."