features individually, collectively they were distinctly pleasing. The
impression one received was of a clean, straight-limbed, clear-eyed
fellow, who, if he had worked with his hands, had won with his brain. He
looked a little older than his twenty-eight years warranted, and a
little taller than his scant five-feet-eleven proved. Above all, he
appeared healthful, alert, capable, and kindly. He made friends at sight
with men, children, and dogs and wore his friendships as easily as he
wore his clothes. The West puts an indefinable stamp on a man, and Wade
had it. When presently he donned a cloth cap, torn from the confused
depths of his valise, and passed out of doors he walked like a man who
was used to covering long distances afoot, and with a certain swing of
his broad shoulders that suggested a jovial egotism. And as he made his
way through the orchard and into the meadow beyond his mind was still
busy with Evelyn Walton.

Of course he would meet her sooner or later; he was bound to unless he
pulled up stakes and hiked out at once. And he didn't want to do that.
He was enjoying a totally new sensation, that of householder. And he
liked Eden Village with its big elms and shaded roads, its wide meadows
and encircling green hills. It was all new and delightful after the
bare, primeval grandeur of the mountains. Besides, and Wade laughed
softly to himself, when all was said and done, he really wanted to meet
her. The prospect brought a flutter to his heart and a pleasant
excitement to his mind. He would probably fall in love with her again,
but there was no harm in that since he would be off before the disease
could strike in very deep.

He had reached the stone wall dividing his property from the land
beyond. At a little distance a brook bubbled along its sunken course.
Bushes, ferns, and here and there a small tree lined its banks, and Wade