wn pitiless snares. Naturally, he would have had
no suspicion that the traps remained. In his mad haste, he had rushed
heedlessly upon destruction. The remorseless engines of his own
devising had taken full toll of him. By his own act, he paid with his
life the penalty for crime. There was propriety in the marshal's
reference to poetic justice.

A certain vindictiveness showed in Plutina's comment concerning the
death of the man at whose hands she had so suffered.

[Illustration:
_Clara Kimball Young under the direction of Lewis J. Selznick._
THE COMING OF PEACE.]

"His bein' so afeared o' thet-thar thing kep' 'im from hurtin' me,"
she said, reflectively. "He was shorely sot ag'inst havin' 'is neck
bruk, an', arter all, thet's jest what he got." She smiled,
contentedly. For Plutina was a primitive woman, strong in her love,
and strong in her hate.

* * * * *

It was a day of early autumn. The timber rights had been secured to
the satisfaction of Sutton. The tree-nail factory was being built.
Zeke was become a man of importance in the region.

The lover's wedding-day was less than a month distant. To-day, Plutina
had been for a visit to the Widow Higgins, and now Zeke was walking
home with her. They paused at the place where had been their meeting
on the morning of the lad's first adventuring into the world. Memories
flooded them, as they looked across the valley to the bleak cliffs of
Stone Mountain, which rose in aged, rugged grandeur, softened in this
hour by the veils of haze, warmed with the lambent hues of sunset.

In answer to Plutina, Zeke shook his head perplexedly.

"I kain't quite stomach thet-thar yarn o' Seth Jones's," he said. "As
I remember, Dan Hodges threw me--hard!" He grinned wryly at the
recollection. "I don't see how I could have thrown him off the
Slide."

"But of course you did!" Plutina asserted, with great spirit. "Pooh!
Ye could lick Dan Hodges any day in the week. An' Seth saw ye--that
settles hit!"

"I suppose so," Zeke conceded. "But Dan Hodges was a powerful fighter.
After all, I didn't do anything much for ye, Tiny," he added, with
regret in his voice.

The girl was all indignation.

"Why, Zeke!" she cried. "The idea! Ye did hit all. Ye banged the love
o' ye into thet-thar dawg, what hung on to me an' brung up the fairy
cross fer a message." Chubbie, as if understanding, leaped to lick her
hand. "An' ye give me the cross, Zeke. Mebb