As the cabin grew in better shape for occupancy each day, more pressing became the thought of how he was going to find and meet the girl of his dream.

Sometimes it seemed to him that the proper way was to remain at home and go on with his work, trusting her to come to him.

At such times he was happy and gaily whistled and sang: "Stay in your chimney corner, Don't roam the world about, Stay in your chimney corner, And your own true love will find you out." But there were other days while grubbing in the forest, battling with roots in the muck and mire of the lake bank, staggering under a load for two men, scarcely taking time to eat and sleep enough to keep his condition perfect, when that plan seemed too hopeless and senseless to contemplate.

Then he would think of locking the cabin, leaving the drugs to grow undisturbed by collecting, hiring a neighbour to care for his living creatures, and starting a search over the world to find her.
There came times when the impulse to go was so strong that only the desire to take a day more to decide where, kept him.

Every time his mind was made up to start the following day came the counter thought, what if I should go and she should come in my absence?
In the dream she came.
That alone held him, even in the face of the fact that if he left home some one might know of and rifle the precious ginseng bed, carefully tended these seven years for the culmination the coming fall would bring.