As Jed was the one most concerned, this edict went abroad by mountain wireless.

“Catch him alive!” Friend and foe were alert.

“And when all’s fixed and done—­when Burke’s trapped,” Greyson said, “what you going to do—­for me, Jed?”

This was a startling, new development.

“I didn’t reckon yo’ war doin’ this—­fur pay!” Jed faltered.  Then Greyson came forth: 

“No pay, Jed.  Gawd knows I do my duty as I see it.  But being keen about duty, I see more than one duty.  When you catch and cage Lawson, Jed, I want to be something closer to you than a friend.”

“Closer than—­” Jed gasped.

“And duty drives me to confess to you, Jed, that the happiness of a lady is at stake.”

Jed merely gaped now.  Visions of Nella-Rose made him giddy and speechless.

“The day you put Lawson in jail, Jed, that day I’ll give you the hand of my daughter.  She loves you; she has confessed!  You shall come here and share—­everything!  The hour that Burke is convicted—­Marg is yours!”

“Marg!” The word came on a gasp.

“Not a word!” Greyson waved his hand in a princely way—­this gesture was an heirloom from his ancestry.  “I understand your feelings—­I’ve seen what has been going on—­but naturally I want my daughter to marry one worthy of her.  You shall have my Marg when you have proven yourself!  I’ve misjudged you, Jed, but this will wipe away old scores.”

With a sickening sense of being absorbed, Jed sank into black silence.  If Marg wanted him and old Greyson was helping her, there was no hope!  Blood and desire would conquer every time; every mountaineer recognized that!

And so things were seething under a surface of deadly calm, when Truedale, believing that he had himself well in control, packed his gunny sack and started forth for a long tramp.  He had no particular destination in mind—­in fact, the soft, dreamy autumn day lulled him to mental inertia—­he simply went along, but he went as directly toward the rhododendron slick as though he had long planned his actions.  However, it was late afternoon before he came upon Nella-Rose.

On the instant he realized that he had been searching for her all day.  His stern standards crumbled and became dry dust.  One might as well apply standards to flickering sunlight or to swirling trifles of mountain mist as to Nella-Rose.  She came upon him gaily; the dogs had discovered her on one of their ventures and were now quietly accompanying her.

“I—­I’ve been looking for you—­all day!” Truedale admitted, with truth but indiscretion.  And then he noted, as he had before, the strange impression the girl gave of having been blown upon the scene.  The pretty, soft hair resting on the cheek in a bewildering curve; the large, dreamy eyes and black lashes; the close clinging of her shabby costume, as if wrapped about her slim body by the playful gale that had wafted her along; all held part in the illusion.